Hellbent
by Angelustatt
Summary: Fifth Story in the Protectorverse series. When the one you love is in Hell, what would you do to save them? Sam is walking a dark path for his brother while Skye has to deal with personal demons of her own.
1. Chapter 1

_**I can't remember anything **_

_**Can't tell if this is true or dream **_

_**Deep down inside I feel to scream **_

_**This terrible silence stops me **_

_**Now that the war is through with me **_

_**I'm waking up, I cannot see **_

_**That there's not much left of me **_

_**Nothing is real but pain now **_

_**Hold my breath as I wish for death **_

_**Oh please God, wake me **_

_So much blood...so much pain. Nothing exists anymore but screaming, tearing flesh, the sickening stench of death covering everything. Except that it's not true death. True death would be a blessing in this place and blessings aren't something found down here. _

_How long has it been?_

_Time is meaningless. Has it been a day? An hour? A minute? How do I keep count?_

_Do I mark time by the way my throat feels ravaged from screaming? Or do I count each time I've watched my body come back together, piece by bloody piece? _

_Sam. Where's Sam? Why isn't he here? Why can't I see him? That has to mean he's safe...right? That I'm the only one trapped down here?_

_It has to mean that. _

_Anything else is a nightmare I can't bear to even contemplate. _

_And this is already a nightmare that I want to wake up from..._

_Please...please, someone let me wake up?_

Dean Winchester was no stranger to pain. All his life he had suffered loss and known the sharp, brutal agony of bullet wounds, claw marks, bite wounds, broken bones.

And right now he would have taken them all, because all of them combined, were still nothing compared to the pain he knew here. Pain that was invasive and intimate. Pain that never let him find time to draw breath or think of everyone he had left behind without tasting blood and screaming for it to stop.

Just _stop_.

Chains rattled nearby, the sound drawing closer and closer as Dean tried to almost draw into himself, as if his body was merely an outer shell he could hide behind. Never give them an inch, never let the bastards know how scared you are. Dad had taught him that and right now, Dean was clinging to it with everything he had.

It was that? Or Dean would lose his mind. He kept his eyes averted from the sounds near him. Dean didn't want to see them, didn't want to make eye contact. He'd always suspected that demons were ugly sons of bitches, but seeing them in their true form? Gave a whole new meaning to ugly. Long, leathery wings seemed to stretch out from bodies that were nothing but mottled, pustulant skin pulled tightly over mishapen, hunched skeletons. Now Dean knew why gargoyles looked the way they did and he found himself wondering if those stone carved bastards really were for protection, or just to scare the shit of out church goers threatened with hellfire?

The demon was in his face before Dean realised, it's hand snatching at his stomach and slicing through the skin until Dean was shuddering in his chains, sweat pouring down his face as he fought the urge to scream.

"Miss me? You're so much more fun than half the souls we have down here, Dean. Most of them are broken before we even get our hands on them...but you? Man, you're just a chip off the old block huh? What do you think your Dad would say if he could see you right now? Do you think he'd be impressed? Personally? I think he'd be laughing...seeing what a sorry sack of shit you really are." The leering smile on the demon's face was an eerie sight, the skin drawn back around it's mouth, exposing teeth and gums. Lifeless black eyes watched from within hollow, sunken eye sockets that seemed melted and stretched far wider than should have been allowed.

"Fuck...you..." Dean ground out, as he met the demon's gaze at last, his jaw locked so tight against the pain that it was trembling.

With a final, vicious twist inside Dean's gut, the demon slid it's hand free and patted Dean on the cheek, smearing his face with warm, fresh blood. "Keep it up, pretty boy. I've got all of eternity to play with you."

Dean kept his gaze locked defiantly on the demon until it was gone. He sagged in his chains then, wincing at the pull on his wrists where the meat hooks were pushed through the flesh, holding him in place. It was like a fire was burning in his stomach, warm blood still washing down over his waistline. So much blood. Enough that Dean would have bled out anywhere else. But not here. Death was denied him here. His head lowered to his chest, tears filling Dean's eyes as he swallowed down his emotions slowly, hearing his father's voice in his head. _Not an inch, Dean. Don't give the sons of bitches the satisfaction. _

"The demon is wrong about you..."

Dean lifted his head wearily at the sound of a soft, gravelly voice. A set of blue eyes were watching him and as his watery gaze adjusted in the darkness, Dean saw that there was another soul on the rack near him, hanging by hooks through his wrists and one that had pierced his side. The chains holding him were thicker than any Dean had seen down here, covered in ornate runes.

"Yeah? Dude...no offence, but you don't know me." Dean informed him, trying not to dwell on what the demon had said.

"Believe me when I say you must hold on. Hold on to the thoughts of who you would fight for. Of what matters to you. That will be your shield and shelter for you in here."

"Okay, Yoda...just who the the hell are you?"

The blue eyes lowered their gaze then, the man turning his head away. " I do not know. I no longer remember my name..."

****

_A/N : Well, there you have it...a little teaser of things to come. I'll be posting the next chapter soon...very soon. I just wanted to get this little snippet up so you guys knew that I wasn't kidding about working on the fic already. LOL Huge Thanks to Manda for her help with this..._

_Bold Italic lyrics at the beginning are from Metallica - One. _


	2. Walking Wounded

_A/N: Well, here we go, another update nice and fast as I like to have them. This muse is finally finding her wings with this story...so I hope you guys will enjoy. I have to give a quick thanks to Deb and Manda as always for thier help and guidance in this verse. Thier advice is invaluable...thanks guys! _

_Without much more ado...here we go._

**_If your memories do stray  
Then they betray all that's past  
And all that's been between  
Is it gone tell me what went wrong  
'cause baby I'm not that strong_**

_**And I'm walking wounded**_  
_**All alone,**_  
_**And baby I'm not that strong**_  
_**And I'm walking wounded**_  
_**All alone, all alone**_

**~ Walking Wounded - The Tea Party.**

**Kyle, South Dakota.**

Four weeks.

Bobby Singer's gaze was locked onto the dusty patch of road before him, his whole body tense.

Four goddamn weeks.

His knuckles were white as Bobby clutched the steering wheel so tight that it creaked in his grasp. It seemed like no time at all in the grand scheme of things - but four weeks ago, the heart and soul had been ripped out of the Winchester family.

Four weeks ago Bobby had driven along this very road, looking for Sam and Dean when they had failed to return home. And what he found? Would never leave Bobby Singer...

_At first Bobby had thought some drunken farmer had managed to flip his pickup on the way home from town. It wasn't until he was closer, that Bobby could see that there were two cars involved...and his heart sank to his stomach as he recognised one of them. The Chevelle pulled off the road with a small cloud of dust and Bobby climbed out on shaky legs. Years of dealing with broken down, smashed wrecks told Bobby what he didn't want to know – how this had all played out. There was a pale, dirty yellow Mustang sitting in the middle of the road, it's front end caved in, coolant puddled beneath it. The driver was no where to be seen and Bobby was willing to bet they'd never catch the coward who was willing to run from a crash like this. _

_The Impala was a little further down the road, lying on her roof like a wounded animal. The damage to her rear end was all Bobby needed to see to place the image in his mind of what had happened, how the muscle car had spun and flipped in seconds after the impact. He approached slowly, one step at a time, his mouth dry. Were the boys still in the car? Had they crawled free? _

_Rounding one side of the Impala answered those questions for Bobby. Sam was knelt near the front of the car, cradling his brother in his arms as he whispered brokenly, "I can fix this. I...I can fix this, Dean. You... you can't go. I can fix this. I can save you. Let me save you. **Please**." _

"_Sam?" Bobby said after a moment, almost hesitant to speak at all. _

_The emptiness that filled Sam's eyes as he looked up, shook Bobby to the core. Something was broken in that boy. Something that was never going to be fixed, no matter how much Sam wanted it to be. _

Looking at road now, it was still so easy for Bobby to see that scene before him. Replaying in his mind like a movie that he wished he could erase forever. It had taken a call to John, before Bobby could get Sam to move or relinquish his brother's body. The boy had all but growled at Bobby anytime he stepped near Dean, clutching the body closer with a possessiveness that the older hunter wasn't willing to interfere with. John had finally been able to talk Sam down, but it damn near broke the man to finally gather Dean's body into his arms, giving the whole image some sort of bitter angelic feel to it all as he took to the sky at last.

Bobby had guided Sam to his Chevelle as if the kid were a zombie. All motion without thought. A shell that had been gutted from the inside. There had been no conversation, no tears on the drive home. Sam had simply stared out the window as much as Bobby was now. Like someone had just flipped a switch on him and everything had stopped.

Turning the key, Bobby felt the engine surge to life and he pulled back onto the road, heading for home. A box was sat on the seat beside him, containing something that he hoped would give Connor a reason to smile again. God knows they could all do with a reason these days...

**HBhbhbhbhbhbhbHB**

Cold. Skye kept her hand pressed to the hood of the Impala, her gaze sweeping over the gouges and scratches that marred the once immaculate paint job. There was no shine anymore, it was as though the heart of the muscle car had died along with Dean. Now there was nothing but a cold, empty shell that she would give anything to hear roar to life again. To feel the warmth of the engine beneath her hand and for one moment look through that shattered windscreen and see Dean smiling back at her.

It was easy enough to see Dean there still. That cocky grin in place, green eyes sparkling with mischief. A vision that could bring a smile to Skye even now, before it would fade before her eyes.

Skye trailed her hand along the hood towards the driver's door, lifting her hand away slowly as the dried blood in the interior came into view. No one had touched the Impala except to bring her home where she belonged. The car was supposed to be Sam's now. Dean had made sure that preparations were made before he died.

His silver ring hung on a chain around Skye's neck. The amulet was Connor's now and it was the only thing that helped the little boy sleep at night. Tiny little mementos that meant everything to Skye, yet at the same time, stood for the very thing she couldn't bear.

Dean was gone.

He was gone and she was here. One soul for another. That was how it worked, right? Dean had given his, so that Skye would live. She wanted to be angry with him. Wanted to tell whoever had agreed to make the deal to take it back. But to do so meant that Connor and Ethan lost their mother. There was no way to win this and it made Skye even angrier.

This wasn't the life she wanted for her sons. All this loss, all this pain. All Skye had ever wanted was a family, a home. In opening herself up to Dean, Skye had both gained and lost those things.

Sure, she had family still. John, Sam, Elise and Bobby had all shown her time and time again over the last few weeks that she wasn't alone in her grief. That they were all there for her. But without Dean it still seemed empty and Skye hated that. She hated that he had left such a huge hole in her life, even more than Jason ever had.

Skye needed to move forward, but not move on. There would be no moving on for her. That was something Skye had resigned herself to. No one else would be allowed into her heart the way Dean was. Not after this. It just hurt too damn much.

But there was Connor and Ethan to think of now. Skye couldn't let her grief rule her. She needed to be strong for them. They needed her. So instead Skye had taken to swallowing down her grief and locking it away where the boys would never see it. They had to believe Mommy was okay and that no matter what happened she was there to fight for them. Her boys were what mattered now.

The Chevelle pulled into the auto yard, rolling to a halt not far from the porch before the door opened and Bobby climbed out, juggling a box awkwardly as he headed for the house.

Skye thought nothing of it until she heard an excited squeal from inside the house. Connor's squeal. Logic told her that it had been a happy sound, but it still had her starting towards the house, moving faster and faster until she was all but jogging inside.

"Connor? Are you okay, baby?"

"Mommy, look! Unca Bobby got me a pwesent!" Connor was standing in the hallway, his smile so wide and beaming it was almost blinding. Squirming in his arms was a black and tan puppy that was half the size of Connor already.

"What the hell?" Skye couldn't believe what she was seeing. Since when had Bobby thought this was going to be a good idea?

Connor's smile fell slightly, clutching the pup closer to his chest. "Don't you like him?"

"Oh, no...no, no, baby. He's adorable. Of course I like him! But how about you take that little guy outside and see if he needs to go to the bathroom, okay? He's going to have to learn not to pee in the house." Skye plastered a bright smile on her face.

"Okay, Mommy! Come on, puppy!" Connor yelled, running for the door with the pup jiggling heavily in his arms.

Once the coast was clear, Skye stormed straight for the kitchen, finding Bobby making himself a coffee from the pot. "What the fuck are you playing at, Bobby Singer?"

"Whoa, whoa, what the hell's got your panties in a bunch?" Bobby was on the defensive in his own house and that was guaranteed to get his back up. "It's just a pup, Skye. The kid needs something to distract him from the goddamn black hole this house has been lately. I used to own a dog from the same guy...a hunter over in Wounded Knee. Best damn dog I ever owned too."

"I don't care if it was Lassie herself...we don't want it."

"You mean you don't."

"Whatever! Take it back. I'm not doing this. Not again. You can't do this to Connor."

"Do what? Give him something to love?" Bobby demanded, standing taller as he saw Skye drawing closer until they were eye to eye.

"All you're doing is opening him up to have his heart broken, damn it! The last thing he needs is something to love that'll leave him again! I won't have him hurt like that." Skye spat angrily, waiting for Bobby's counter argument. He would never understand. Bobby hadn't been there the night that Jason's ghost had killed Dodger, snapping the old bull terrier's neck like it was a tooth pick. Skye couldn't let that happen to Connor. "What if a car hits it? What if it gets sick? Or if some freakish thing you all hunt kills it? It'll tear his heart out, Bobby. I'm not doing that to my son!"

"So...what? You're going to wrap him in cotton wool and just fill his head with damn fairytales? No one ever dies, no one ever gets hurt? That's not protecting him, Skye. That's protecting yourself. You're the one that's scared to let anyone in. Don't go putting that hang up on the kid too. That ain't fair!" Bobby growled, refusing to back down.

"I don't care if it's fair...it's what I want." Skye stepped back then, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "He's just a little boy, Bobby."

"Then you take it back." Bobby lifted his chin, daring Skye to take his challenge. "You walk out there and tell Connor that he can't have that puppy. I ain't doing it."

"Fine!" Skye turned on her heel and stormed towards the front door, grasping the handle with a hand that was shaking with anger. Through the screen door, she could see Connor running in circles with the puppy nipping at his heels, his laughter high pitched and carefree. It was like a bucket of ice water to her anger, shutting down the fire inside instantly. Her hand dropped away from the door handle, tears spilling down her cheeks as she heard Bobby's footsteps behind her.

"You can't shut it out, Skye. You need to deal with what's happened..."

"I am dealing, Bobby. Just...just leave it alone. Leave me alone." Skye turned, pushing past him as she took herself upstairs to the nursery to check on Ethan.

Bobby watched her go, his heart breaking. His house was so full of pain and Bobby was doing his best to try and help the people he loved. He just hoped that it was going to be enough...

**HBHbHbHbHbHbHbHbHB**

Dust exploded from the pages as Sam slammed the book in front of him closed and dropped it off the table with a tired sigh. "Nothing." His hand drifted up up his face, tired fingers massaging the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. That was all he seemed to find lately. Nothing. No answers, no leads to Crowley, no way to spring Dean from the pit.

Frustration had been gnawing at his gut for days now, washed down by mouthfuls of bourbon to try and dull the ache in his heart. Deep, dark circles had carved themselves beneath his eyes, dark stubble covered his chin in shadow. The one thing that was keeping him grounded still was Elise. Even now, her hands were on his shoulders, kneading, rubbing, working out the knots of muscle that were burning as he leaned back.

"You need to get some sleep, Sam. Pushing yourself like this isn't helping anyone." Elise sounded exhausted herself.

Sam twisted slightly in his chair, looking up at Elise. "I can't sleep. Everytime I close my eyes, I see him, Elise. I hear him screaming in my mind. How the hell am I supposed to sleep through that?"

Elise nodded, her heart in her throat, feeling it closing up on her. Sam hadn't slept in days...and even in the weeks since Dean had died, the only way to get him to sleep at all was to get him blind drunk. But that would only work for a few hours before Sam was awake, screaming about chains and clutching at his body as though he expected to find wounds. Elise had stopped asking Sam about what he was seeing, it was too much for her.

"Is Dad back yet?"

"I don't think so. I haven't seen him." Elise shook her head. John had left two hours ago to follow up on some contact he had found. Whoever this Crowley was, he was proving to be almost impossible to find and Elise was starting to think that they were chasing the demon equivalent of the Grail. What if Crowley didn't actually exist? Sam and John were pinning their hopes on this demon when maybe there was no hope to begin with?

Elise didn't want to say that to Sam. Not now. Maybe not ever. He could no sooner give up on trying to get Dean back, than Elise would have if it was her own brother down there. But what was it costing Sam in the process?

"Sam...Sam, please. Stop. Just for a little while? Stretch out on the sofa...just relax. You don't need to sleep. You just need to take a break. Otherwise you're going to bloody well collapse and no offence? But I can't exactly drag your arse to that sofa if that happens."

"You could try..." The barest hint of a smile flickered on his lips like the sun trying to break through the clouds, before it was gone again.

Elise leaned in, her hands gently cupped to his cheeks as she pressed her lips to his, trying to ignore the strong stench of bourbon on his breath. "Please, Sam. For me?"

An argument tried to form itself before it quickly died. Sam was just too damn tired to argue anymore. Maybe Elise was right? Maybe he just needed to stretch out for a while? Let his mind run back over everything he had read on the off chance that he'd missed something? "Okay...just for a little while."

Sam let himself be led to the couch, lying down with his feet hanging over one side as he got comfortable. Elise sat down on the floor and laid her head near his chest, closing her eyes as she felt Sam rest a hand on her shoulder, playing with her hair gently.

It was only a few minutes later that Elise noticed the change in his breathing, the way it had deepened, his fingers now lax while still tangled around her hair. Sam was finally asleep and Elise could only hope it would help him.

Because she was out of ideas and worried sick that she was losing the man she loved...

**HBHbHbHbHbHbHB**

**Somewhere south of Sioux Falls, South Dakota**.

There was a time when the steady, rhythmic snap of his wings was soothing for John. For those few golden moments he was free and able to believe he was really a hawk, an eagle, even an angel if he really wanted to stretch his imagination. Anything but the half breed bastard that Hell had made him during his time there.

What was Dean suffering right now? What horrors were they visiting on his boy in his name, just because he'd managed to escape? John could taste bile in his mouth and beat his wings harder, really pushing himself to go faster and faster now. As if he could outrun the thoughts and images in his mind.

The trip to Sioux Falls had been an exercise in futility. The demon John had tracked down knew nothing of Crowley's whereabouts. It had been so tempting to slit the bastard's throat - but since it was laughing at him from within the skinny pale body of a 15 year old boy, John didn't have it in him to have that blood on his hands. He'd exorcised it instead and rushed the kid to the hospital where hopefully they'd be able to put his mind and body back together after a lot of therapy. Maybe death would have been kinder after all?

Death. The word was almost a joke to John some days. Once upon a time it was meant to represent peace, an end to things. Now he couldn't think of it without seeing never ending suffering. There had been no peace in Mary's death, or Jessica's. Skye's death had led to them losing Dean. It seemed like everything John and his boys had ever cared about had been touched and tainted by demons.

Now there was only one place that ever gave John peace...and that was several hours away in Lawrence. He needed to talk to Mary and just sit by her headstone. It didn't matter that she wasn't in the grave itself. It still gave him a sense of connection to her in a way...

Feeling the wind rushing past him, John turned and began to head straight for Kansas.

**HBHbHbHbHbHbHbHbHB**

_Chains. Everywhere Sam looked, he saw chains. Crisscrossing the abyss above and below him. Thick, bloody chains that held hundreds – no, thousands of bodies. Each of them screaming and writhing and begging Sam to help them as he inched his way along the chains, letting his hands and feet guide him as he closed his eyes to block out the horror that surrounded him. _

_Hands clutched at his feet, voices sobbed in his ear as he passed..._

"_**Please...please...you have to help me!"**_

"_**No...no, please. Me! Help me!"**_

"_**I have a wife...children. What did I ever do to end up here?"**_

"_**God, make it stop...just make it stop!"**_

"_**God won't help you down here, asshole!"**_

"_Shut up!" Sam screamed, one hand knotted in his hair as he tried to block them all out. Why was he here again? Why did he keep getting pulled back here against his will?_

"_Sam?" _

_There. That was the reason right there. Sam turned towards the sound of his brother's voice, inching his way along the chains faster now, desperate to see Dean. His hands fumbled along the chain until they found Dean, sliding over his shoulder and squeezing ever so gently to tell him that Sam was there. "It's okay, dude...it's okay, I'm here. I'm right here."_

_It was a difficult balancing act, keeping himself on the chains without adding his body weight to the chains that were holding Dean in place. Sam would never have forgiven himself if he had added to his brother's pain. He'd sooner let go and fall into the abyss below him. _

"_Sammy?" One word, barely spoken aloud at all. It was as if there was a fog over Dean's eyes that was lifting in the presence of his brother. His little brother. The light was slowly coming to life within those green orbs, tears flooding down his cheeks unashamedly. "You...you can't be here. It's...it's too dangerous, Sam."_

"_It's good to see you too." Sam couldn't help the lopsided grin he gave him. It was a stupid, surreal moment for them both, just face to face again after all this time. Whatever his brother was going through down here, Sam could tell he was losing himself more and more...it was getting harder for Dean to see him. Or remember him._

_The first few visits had been so typical of Dean. Ranting and yelling at Sam that he had to get the hell out of there and never look back. But as time past, Sam was beginning to see a change in his brother that was killing Sam a little more each time. His brother was forgetting him. _

"_Sammy...I...I can't. I can't do this. Please, please take me with you." _

" _I can't, Dean. I'm not really here. You know that. You know what this is." _

_Dean lowered his head, nodding jerkily, choking back a sob. _

_Sam felt like he'd been sucker punched, seeing his brother that way. Dean never let down the walls, never let anyone see him that way. He wasn't only losing Sam...he was losing himself. _

"_I'm going to get you out of here, though...I promise, Dean." It didn't matter what it was going to cost him._

"_Get out of here, Sammy. Don't let them catch you." Dean raised his head and met his brother's gaze. From behind Sam, howling, echoing barks could be heard that sent a chill down his spine. "I'll be back for you, Dean. I'm coming back for you." _

_Inch by inch, he began to make his way along the chains, tears blurring his vision as he heard the hellhounds closing in and Dean's screams begin. Snarls filled the air along with the smack and slap of wet, tearing flesh before Dean's voice was silenced. _

_The chain Sam was on began to bob and jerk wildly, the howling barking growing closer and closer. There was no choice. Sam closed his eyes, tears spilling down his cheeks as he let go of the chain, spread his arms wide and tumbled backwards into the abyss..._

"DEAN!"

Elise jerked awake with her heart in her mouth, scrambling up to check on Sam. He was clawing wildly at the air before him with unseeing eyes, still trapped in his nightmare. His chest was heaving as Sam fought to suck in air with every panicked breath.

"Sam...SAM! Wake up!" Elise grabbed at his arms and tried to lower them, fighting against a strength that she was never going to beat. "Sam, fucking wake up!"

With a huge, whooping gasp of air, Sam seemed to suddenly coming back to himself, his eyes blinking rapidly as they filled with tears. Elise climbed onto the couch and dragged him into her arms, feeling how badly Sam was shaking as she gently whispered over and over to him. "Shhhh, I'm here, I'm here. It's okay. You're awake...it's okay."

They couldn't keep doing this. Something was going to give and Elise knew it was going to be Sam's sanity. There had to be something she could do to stop this, to help him. But what?

**HBhbhbhbhbhbhbhbhbHB**

_You need to deal with what happened..._

What the hell did Bobby think she was doing? Skye was dealing with what had happened...how could she not be? Everywhere she damn well looked, there was something to remind her of what she had lost. Dean's leather jacket was still hanging on the chair near the desk in the corner of the room. A pair of his boots were lying forgotten beside his side of the bed.

Ethan was lying in the middle of the bed, quietly sucking on his fist and watching his mother with his father's green eyes, the picture of innocence.

Deal with what happened. It sounded so simple. So damn easy. Just put it all behind you and move on.

Skye picked up a shirt from the bed, bringing it to her face and inhaling deeply, drawing the familiar and fading scent of aftershave, gun oil and just...Dean. After a moment, she slipped it over her head and curled up on the bed, letting Ethan grasp her hand with his. He gurgled and wriggled a little, his gaze watching nothing but his mother, the center of his universe.

"We'll be okay, buddy. I promise. No one is ever going to take you away from me. No matter what. It's you, me and your brother against the world. What do you say?"

Ethan gurgled again, huffing out a wet, almost snorting breath a moment later.

Skye slipped her hand free of his grasp and gently stroked his hair. Tears blinded her vision momentarily, her voice hitching as she spoke. "Yeah, I miss him too, sweetie. I miss him too."


	3. Cracks Appearing

_AN: Thanks as always to Manda, LovinJackson and Deb for their help with this chapter! _

**Lawrence, Kansas.**

"I don't think I can do this anymore, Mary. It's just...so damn hard. I keep letting you down."

The sun was flitting through the trees above him as John sat beside Mary's grave, his wings curled around him as he sat with a bottle of whiskey at his feet. There'd been a time after Mary's death that alcohol had been a crutch for John to lean on to get through the long, lonely nights. But getting blind drunk wasn't going help anything. This wasn't a time to be running from his problem. John needed to face them head on. His sons needed him.

_Sons? You're already down one. He's taken your place, remember? _

John closed his eyes as his own thoughts damned him. He'd failed Dean and now he was failing Sam too. It was all too obvious to John that his son was slipping away from him, slowly losing his mind to grief.

"I wish you were here, Mary. I could really use some advice right now. You always knew how to handle this sort of thing better than me." His fingers brushed the top of the bottle for a moment, flirting with the idea of opening it. With a sigh, John tipped the bottle over and pushed it away with one foot. He couldn't bring himself to drink here, of all places. This was his safe haven, the one place that John had come over the years to just sit and talk to Mary. It didn't matter to him that she wasn't actually here, that the grave was empty.

There was something about the serenity of the place that made John feel closer to Mary when he sat here. It allowed him to lower the walls for once and just admit that he didn't have all the damn answers.

"Sam's not coping with Dean's death. I'm not sure he ever would have, but it's scaring me to see him like this. He's not eating right, he won't sleep...I don't know what to do, Mary." John's vision blurred with tears but he smudged them away roughly with a calloused thumb before they could fall. The simplest answer was to find Crowley, but that was proving to be anything but simple. John felt like he was living through some strange case of deja vu. Chasing a damn demon all over again and Azazel was still behind all this pain. Still laughing at them, the bastard.

Sam was pinning everything on them bringing Dean back without looking at the possibility that it might not happen. John knew escape wasn't impossible from Hell...but what were they bringing back?

His body was gone. Skye had insisted they salt and burn Dean after he had died and had scattered the ashes here, over Mary's grave to let him be at rest with his mother. Without that body, what would Dean return as? Some sort of twisted thing like John? A half winged freak?

Reaching out, John placed his hand to the grass in front of Mary's gravestone, letting his fingers sink into the soft blades before they dug in sharply a moment later. Dirt ground in under his nails, the damp earth feeling coarse and uninviting. The cold stark reality of the grave beneath him.

This feeling of utter helplessness wasn't something he wore easily, taking John back to those dark days after Mary was gone and he had been left to fend for himself with the boys. Crowley had to be out there. John wasn't doing enough to find him. He was letting Dean down, letting Mary down by not looking after their sons.

John got to his feet, bending over to pick up the bottle of whiskey before he threw it as far as he could, watching the bottle arc through the air and shatter against a tree in the distance. No more booze. John was done with that and he was going to make sure Sam was too.

"I'll see you again soon, Mary. And this time I'll bring the boys..." It was a promise to his wife's memory that John wouldn't break.

** HBhbhbhbhbhbhbhbhbHB**

Evening was starting to crawl across the Auto yard, bathing everything in shades of grey and black. From her seat by the nursery's window, Skye could see right out across the crumpled stacks of broken cars and pick up trucks. Right across to where the Impala seemed to lay in wait for her owner to return and soothe her wounds.

It was a task that was expected to fall to Sam, now that the muscle car had been left for him. But nobody had any illusions of that actually happening. Not now. Maybe not ever.

And so instead the Impala sat quietly in the yard, her wounds exposed for all to see as a sharp reminder of what was lost.

Skye didn't need any such reminders. There was no escaping it for her. The strange, restless feeling that she was somehow incomplete. As though some important part was missing from within and without it, she would never feel whole again. How the hell was it possible for someone to make her feel that way? How could someone crawl under your skin so easily until you felt like it was hard to breathe without them there? The sense of peace that Skye had always known around Dean was gone now and it wasn't ever coming back. No matter how much she wanted it to.

There was no sound in the nursery, save for Ethan's soft snuffly breathing as he slept in the crib across the room. Skye checked on him quietly, watching her son sleep before she let her gaze travel up the wall beside the cot, taking in all the secret runes and protections that guarded her little boy through the night. Protections that Dean had put in place before he had died to ensure his son would be safe from the evil out there in the darkness.

Reaching out, Skye traced a rune with one finger, a sad smile slowly appearing. Maybe if they had placed these runes over the Impala, he would still be here? Why couldn't the same protections and sigils have guarded the father like they did the son? It wasn't fair and Skye hated the way it made her feel deep inside. She wanted to love the nursery and all the work that Dean, Bobby and John had put into it. But now it was only another painful reminder of how much they had lost.

From downstairs, Skye could hear the sound of dishes rattling, pots clanging, as dinner was being served. She placed a kiss to the tip of her fingers and gently touched Ethan's forehead before leaving the room, closing the door behind her and heading downstairs to eat.

**HBhbhbhbhbhbhbhbhbHB**

Dinner had seemed like a good idea at the time. A chance for them to all come together and just sit down as a family once again. Casual conversation, good food – it was all so simple in Elise's mind. Of course, simple ideas in theory often proved nightmarish when put into reality.

The tension in the room was stifling. Cutlery screeched across plates without a word of conversation. Nothing but the odd glance and awkward look was shared amongst them. Okay, so maybe telling everyone that there would be no "shop talk" at the table was a bad idea. What else could Bobby talk about other than cars if he couldn't discuss hunting with Sam?

Not that Sam was being any sort of conversationalist. He was picking at his food and pushing the rest around with his fork. His eyes were blank and almost lifeless as he sat slumped in his seat, a picture of exhaustion and defeat.

Skye refused to meet anyone's gaze, her eyes flitting to the empty chair beside her at regular intervals before she would return to slowly slicing through her mash potato with her fork.

Add John's absence to that mix and Elise was starting to think she deserved an award for creating the world's worst dinner gathering.

"So...um...has anyone heard from John? Is it worth me putting his tea in the oven for him?" Elise looked around the table, trying to engage someone in conversation.

"Tea? John's not much of a tea drinker there, Elise." Bobby offered, trying to enjoy his meal as he washed it down with a shot of whiskey. The food was fantastic and deserved a better drink to wash it down than the cheap whiskey Bobby had managed to get his hands on, but he'd been happy for anything to take his mind off things.

"Not that sort of tea, Bobby...dinner! I meant is it worth me putting his dinner in the oven?" One of these days Elise would remember that she spoke a different language sometimes compared to everyone else. At least, it felt that way.

"How the hell should I know? I ain't his freaking wife, go ahead if you think he'll be home in time to eat it before it becomes a science experiment." Bobby shrugged, pouring another drink for himself. There was no saying how the man was truly dealing after the death of his eldest boy. Mary's death was still a wound that bleed and crippled the man after all these years. How much more was he hurting now with Dean in Hell? How hard was he pushing himself to find answers that weren't there? "Sam, you heard from John at all?"

"No. Nothing." The words were ground out sullenly, his eyes never leaving his food. Sam didn't want to be here. Sitting at this table, playing happy families as if they hadn't lost Dean. One glance at Skye was all that was needed to tell Sam that she was on the same page here. She didn't want to sit with that empty chair any more than he did. But Elise had asked him and Sam had agreed to spare her feelings. He knew she was worried about him after the nightmare he'd had earlier. Nightmare...yeah, if only that was all it was.

His fork skittered across his plate as Sam found his hands clenching into fists. Dean was screaming and dying in his head again. Over and over...every damn time he closed his eyes. Sam couldn't escape it.

A soft hand folded over his knuckles, easing his grip as Sam saw Elise watching him, fear and concern playing across her face like a movie at an old fashioned drive in movie show. Nothing needed to be said in that moment. Sam knew exactly what Elise was saying – that she was there for him. He didn't have to deal with this alone.

Skye could see the pair out of the corner of her eye and wished she could push away the surge of jealousy that rushed to the surface like an oil slick, tainting her thoughts and feelings at that moment. How was it fair for them to do that in front of her? Playing happy couples. Skye wanted to scream and knock over the empty chair beside her. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and just release all the anger and hurt within. Lash out and just make someone else know what she was feeling right now.

But even as those dark poisonous feelings were crawling through her veins like serpents, Skye knew they were wrong. Sam was struggling with Dean's death too. They all were. How could she be jealous of Sam reaching out for the life preserver that Elise was able to offer him with her love? Skye pushed her plate away from her a little, too sick and disgusted with herself to eat now.

Even Connor had picked up on the mood in the room, staying unusually quiet as he ate his dinner, dropping the occasion morsel of food down to the puppy beneath his chair. Every so often he would sneak another bite of food off his plate, his blue eyes flitting to each person at the table to ensure he wasn't caught before he did it.

A bite of potato.

A slice of steak.

A sliver of carrot.

Each smuggled treat was secretly slipped off the plate and under the table, Connor pleased with each success until...

"Connor, stop feeding that puppy."

Connor sat up and looked solemnly at his mother, his eyes wide and apologetic. "He's hungry."

"Well he can be fed after dinner. Not from your plate. Eat." Skye's words were clipped and sharp as she spoke, feeding off the mass of anger and pain that seemed to have Skye's chest tighter than a drum skin at that moment. The matter seemed settled until another small cut of steak was slipped surreptitiously to the pup a few minutes later. "CONNOR!"

The little boy jumped in his seat, his plate banging as it skipped a few inches across the table. Tears welled in his eyes as Connor was confronted with his mother's temper.

"What did I tell you?"

"Not to feed him."

"Exactly. You ignored me, didn't you?"

Connor nodded, his bottom lip quivering. "Yes..."

"Go to your room and stay there. In fact, go to bed!" Skye demanded angrily.

"Skye, simmer down. The boy didn't mean anything by it."

"Stay out of this, Bobby. Connor needs to learn to behave."

"He's four!"

"He's not _yours_!" Skye rounded furiously, slamming her hand down on the table. " I know this is your house, Bobby, but Connor's my son and he'll do as he's told." She turned back towards Connor and pointed towards the doorway. " I mean it, Connor. Get into bed! Now!"

Connor leapt down from his chair and ran from the room with the puppy at his heels, the sound of crying filtering back down the hall in his wake a minute later.

"Skye..." Elise broached cautiously, trying to soothe frayed tempers.

"Not now, Elise. I don't need to hear it! I don't need...just..just don't. Leave it alone. Just leave me alone. Everyone! I can't do this. I can't deal with this, right now." Skye pushed her chair away, her words starting to topple from her lips, faster and faster as panic set in. God, what had she done? Lashed out at her son because he was feeding a puppy? What was wrong with her?

Bolting from the dining room, Skye picked up her pace, taking the stairs two at a time and all but running down the hallway until she got to her room where she slammed the door behind her. Her knees buckled under her, slowly sliding Skye down the door until she was sat on the floor in a heap.

Across the room, Dean's jacket was hanging on the back of a chair, the books he had been reading before he died still lying open on the desk. Books about Hell and crossroads and ways to beat the devil at his own game.

Skye's lip trembled as her defences shattered. The jacket disappeared from her sight in a watery haze of tears that spilt down her face as a sob was torn from her throat. She hugged her knees to her chest and rocked gently as she allowed herself a moment of release, sobs wracking her body. Her world was falling apart, piece by piece and Skye didn't know how to hold it all together any more. She was fighting so hard to be strong for the boys... to be that rock for them. But the one person Skye had grown to rely on was gone now and she felt like she was tumbling into endless darkness with no way to stop herself.

Downstairs in the dining room, Sam slowly pushed his chair away from the table, getting to his feet. "I need to go out for a while.."

"What? Wait...I'll come with you." Elise offered, getting up out of her own chair to follow. It felt as though it was hard to breathe in here now. A quick glance towards Bobby as he poured himself another glass of whiskey told Elise she wasn't the only one feeling it. All dinner had achieved was to open the wounds in this family even further.

"You can't. I'm meeting someone who can lead me to Crowley. They won't see me unless I'm alone." Sam's voice held no emotion. It was as dead as his eyes...as the rest of him seemed since the accident.

Elise could feel her throat closing up as she nodded. "O-oh...okay. I'll um, hold the fort here then, I guess? Bobby and I can crack some books." It was killing her, seeing Sam like this. Knowing that the only time she saw any sort of real life in him...was when he was dreamwalking with his brother. How was that fair? How much longer could Sam do that before it destroyed him?

Folding her arms around herself, Elise tried not to show how hurt she felt as Sam quickly kissed her on the top of the head and left, the screen door banging a moment later behind him.

"You want to crack some books, huh?"

Elise turned, looking over her shoulder at Bobby's raised eyebrow. "Not really, but what else am I supposed to do, Bobby? I can't sit back and watch Sam coming apart like this. I've got to try and help him."

"You don't want to get involved in what Sam's doing, Elise. You don't want any part of this...believe me." Bobby drained his glass and slapped it back down on the table. His eyes were red and watery from trying to hold in his emotions. "That boy's hanging on by a thread...and that thread is you. You're something in his life that's not tainted by everything around him. Keep it that way. Go and see to Skye. I'll see what I can find to help Sam and John."

"But..."

"That ain't a request, girl." Bobby growled as he got to his feet and stormed away to the Den. Sure, he could have handled that a lot better, but Bobby was tired and he was hurting as much as the rest of them. Keeping this family together was like trying to play pick up sticks with boxing gloves on. Every damn crack that appeared was another knife in Bobby's heart. Another wound to try and heal. Bobby had buried so many people he cared about over the years and he was done with it. He was done watching the evil in the world gutting good people. Each day seemed to bring more and more weight to his shoulders, but Bobby would keep fighting, because what else could he do?

**HBhbhbhbhbhbhbhbhbhbHB**

"Skye?"

"Go away." Skye tried to tuck her knees in tighter against her chest. Just curl up into a ball and shut out the whole world right now until she was able to breathe again. Until it didn't hurt with every beat of her heart to face the reality of what had happened. It wasn't death if you didn't accept it. Skye had read that somewhere once and now it was all she could hold on. No death. No acceptance. Dean wasn't gone. He wasn't. Any time now he would walk back into the house with that cocky grin and smart mouth of his. The more Skye thought about it, the more fervent her wish became. She could hear his voice in her head and swore she could smell his aftershave. Was she losing her mind?

"Skye, come on, mate. Open up...please?"

Skye didn't want to open the door. If she opened the door and let Elise in, then she had to face up to Dean being dead again. It was too much right now. It hurt too much. Couldn't they just leave her alone up here? Was that too much to ask?

Elise's persistent knocking was enough of an answer. With a sigh, Skye dragged herself to her feet and opened the door, stepping back to let Elise into the room. "What?"

"Nice. Thanks for making me feel welcome there." Elise shot back as she entered the room and sat down on the bed. " I brought you something."

"You brought me something?"

"Look, I wasn't meant to give these to you until it was the right time, but judging by the meltdown you had earlier? It's definitely time you saw them." Elise held a DVD out towards Skye.

"What is it?" Skye reached towards the DVD before she hesitated and withdrew her hand again.

"It's not going to bloody bite you, Skye. It's from Dean. Just...watch it. Okay?" Elise pushed the DVD into Skye's hand and turned to leave.

"Elise, wait. I'm sorry. About before. I didn't mean to snap like that."

"I know. Things have been shitty all round lately. It's okay, Skye. Just watch that DVD. I'll be downstairs if you need me." Elise gave Skye a brief, tight smile and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her but not moving away just yet. Elise wanted to be sure that Skye was going to be okay before she took herself downstairs.

Back in the room, Skye hadn't moved. She felt rooted to the spot, staring at the disc in her hand, her mind racing with thoughts of what would be on it. "Come on, dammit, snap out of it. You can do this..." She berated herself quietly. Her old laptop was sitting on the desk along with Dean's books and Skye found herself letting her fingers sink in and bury themselves amongst the folds of Dean's leather jacket as she pulled the chair back. If she closed her eyes for a moment, Skye could still recall the feel of that jacket on Dean's shoulders.

The disc was slipped into the laptop and Skye held her breath as it began to load, unable to look away from the screen before her.

"_Skye...hey...uh..." _

Dean's face filled the screen and in that moment, Skye felt her throat lock tight, her chest filled with an ache that threatened to crush her heart inside her. He looked so alive, a nervous smile on his face that quickly brightened into the grin she knew all too well as he chuckled quietly.

" _I'm kinda hoping you'll never have to see this, cause if I get out of that deal? I've got plans for me and Sam to use this disc as target practice. But...well, in case I manage to screw things up somehow and I don't escape the pit? _" Dean looked away from the camera, running a hand over his face as he composed himself again. He snorted softly as if he found the whole thing amusing in some way, but his eyes told another story as Dean looked back at the camera. _"I figured that I needed to tell you a few things. You know I've never been the sorta of guy who deals with all that touchy feely chick flick stuff..."_

Skye's face was awash with tears now, her lip trembling in a mirror of how Connor's had been earlier.

Dean paused again to clear his throat and looked past the camera to whoever was filming him. _"You uh, you think I could maybe film this part alone?"_ His hand reached up and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Skye heard a soft voice she recognised as Elise agree to leave and then a door close.

"_Okay, uh...where the hell do I begin? I guess I should start by saying that I never meant for this to happen. But I'm not sorry for it panning out like this either. Not if it means your here to watch this. I can deal with what's coming...but I need you to do a few things for me..."_

Skye reached behind her and slid Dean's jacket off the chair and over her shoulders, wrapping it around her closely, burying her face in it and drawing in that scent of leather, smoke and gun oil that was everything Dean. Fresh tears escaped as Skye closed her eyes and let go of the pain inside her, surrounded by Dean's voice, his scent. Her face crumpled completely as Skye started to sob, rocking ever so slightly back and forth. The jacket could never replace the feel of Dean's arms holding her and the security that had always offered. The emptiness inside was never going to go away...

Outside in the hallway, Elise's hand hovered over the door handle as she contemplated going back in to sit with Skye. But what could she say right now? Or do to make any of this better? Skye was finally allowing herself to really grieve and Elise didn't feel right walking in on that. Instead she headed back downstairs to the kitchen, deciding that she'd have a look in the pantry cupboards and see if Bobby had left any of that cheap whiskey behind. Just one small drink to calm her nerves was all she needed. Bobby would be holed up in the Den for hours and Skye wasn't likely to emerge again from the room tonight. That left Elise with nothing but several hours of crap TV to watch until Sam finally came home.

Elise found the whiskey and poured herself a small measure before she topped it up with some Coca Cola from the fridge. Nursing the glass in her hands, she looked out the kitchen window across the now darkened auto yard, wondering where Sam had actually gone? Maybe this time he'd find what he was looking for?

**HBhbhbhbhbhbhbhbhbhbhHB**

Failure. One small word that seemed to be suffocating Sam more and more with ever passing day. Failure to save his brother. Failure to find an answer to getting Dean back...failure at being honest with the people who loved him, about just how far he was willing to go to get his brother back.

His gaze slid from slide to side, hiding beneath the long, untidy bangs of hair that framed his face. His fingers tapped the glass they were nursing ever so lightly. One small concession to the nervousness that was churning his stomach like a washing machine. What the hell was he even doing here? It looked like any other bar you would find in small town America. Smoky, inviting and infinitely forgettable.

Sam had been to hundreds of bars like this over the years with Dean. They'd hustled pool, tried to drown memories of hunts that had gone wrong, drank with other hunters. It all felt like a lifetime ago now and Sam took another mouthful of his bourbon as he wondered what Dean would think of his little brother, if he could see him right now?

What Dean would think if he knew the company Sam was keeping now?

Sam already knew the answer to that. It was enough to have him drain his glass and order another right away, sliding his money along the bar without meeting the bartender's eyes. He didn't want to draw attention to himself in here. Not when he was the only human...or at least, the most human out of any of the patrons here.

Demons, shapeshifters, even a few vampires could be seen filling booths and sitting at tables. It had begun the day that the Devil's Gate had opened. The world had shifted – the lines between human and what had once lived in the dark blurring to the point where it was almost impossible to know who was what any more. The world tried to turn a blind eye to what was happening around it, choosing to ignore what it couldn't explain and understand.

It was like an apple. On the surface, it looked normal, wholesome...perfect. It wasn't until you cut into the skin and looked beneath the surface that you found the worm there and by then, you'd usually eaten half of it.

The world was evolving and Sam had evolved with it. He could sense everything around him, every demon and unworldly creature breathing the same air he was. It should have unsettled him that he was able to blend so easily...that not one of them had confronted him about his presence here. But Sam couldn't bring himself to care any more.

This was where he needed to be. This was where he would find the answers he needed.

"Well, well, well. I wasn't sure if you were going to stand me up..."

"Ruby." Sam didn't look up as he spoke, gently swirling the amber liquid inside his glass. "I have to admit, the thought crossed my mind." Sam swallowed the last of his drink, savouring the burn in his throat as the bourbon rolled over his tongue. He looked over at the pretty brunette behind him, pulling away from her slightly as she ran a hand over his shoulders. "Don't do that..."

"Don't be such a prude, Sam. You can't blame a girl for trying..." The brunette clicked her fingers at the bartender. "A House special and a double scotch over here, Ray."

"Look, I'm here like we arranged. You said you could help me...so let's do it." Sam moved to stand up, swinging around on his bar stool.

"Slow down there, Hotshot...have a drink with me first."

"I don't have time for this." Sam argued, feeling dirty for being in here.

"Make time. You want Dean out of the pit? You need me...and right now? I feel like having a drink, so sit." Ruby placed a slender hand on Sam's chest and gently pushed him back down onto the bar stool.

Right there and then, Sam knew he should have just walked out of that bar. It went against the grain to sit there and be told what to do. But what choice did he have? Leave Dean in Hell and watch his family disintegrate around him while Sam lost his mind every time he slept?

Desperate times called for desperate measures, right?

Turning back to the bar, Sam picked up the drink that had been placed in front of him, his gaze shifting to Ruby as she lifted her own glass and knocked it gently against his.

"Here's to the start of something beautiful, Sam..."


	4. Edge of Darkness

_A/N: I know, I know...it's an update! I can hear the gasps of shock from here! LOL I can't really explain why this chapter was so damn hard for me to write? I know the content, while cathartic? Is also confronting for me...cause I'm still dealing with the loss of my mother. And I know I have a LOT of issues with RoboSam this season which made it hard for me to hear "Normal" Sam's voice as I write...but still, this was a bitch to write, plain and simple. I hope it doesn't come through too much, cause I'm really hoping I've given you guys something worthy of the wait. _

_HUGE thanks as always to LovinJackson, lovinandrew and Manda for their help, support and whip cracking. You've kept me sane...I think? lol  
_

_ Please leave some love...feedback helps kill writer's block. True story! _

**xXx**

**_I grieve for you_**  
**_ You leave me_**  
**_ 'so hard to move on_**  
**_ Still loving what's gone_**  
**_ They say life carries on _**

**_~ Peter Gabriel - I Grieve_**

"_Something's wrong..." Skye muttered softly to herself as she paced back and forth, up and down the hallway. Her eyes were locked on the front door and beyond, out to the yard where she was waiting for the familiar dark shape of the Impala to reappear. The boys should have been back by now and the fact that Bobby had gone out, followed by John leaving a little while later without a word? Only added to her worry. _

_Ethan was nestled in her arms, sleeping soundly, rocked by the steady rhythm of Skye's pacing back and forth. _

"_Do you want me to take him for a while?" Elise asked, slipping out of the living room with Connor two steps behind her. "We can have some cuddle time while I put on a movie for Connor?"_

_Skye hesitated only for a moment, before she nodded and let Elise gather Ethan up gently in her arms. _

"_It's probably just a flat tyre, mate. You know how it is with these blokes. We spend so much time worrying about them, that we don't know when to turn it off. Right?" Elise offered Skye a reassuring smile. "They'll be back any time now, you'll see. Come on, Connor. You pick whatever movie you want to watch, okay?" _

"_Nemo, Nemo!" Connor was chanting as he ran for the other room with Elise in tow. _

_Skye watched them go, grateful to Elise for her help. She felt all coiled up inside like a mouse trap, just waiting to snap. It was silly, because Elise was right. It was probably nothing. The boys could have a flat tyre...or maybe Dean had taken longer in town cause something had caught his eye. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened. She rubbed her arms and took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension bleed away after a moment. _

_A deep throaty rumble changed all that in an instant. Skye's heart starting thumping wildly in her chest as she stepped out onto the front porch and saw Bobby's Chevelle pulling up outside with Sam in the passenger seat. _

"_Oh, let me guess? You guys broke down and Dean's not leaving the Impala until she can be towed, right? That's so damn typ-..." Skye's shaky, nervous sentence froze in her throat as Sam stepped out of the car with a hollow look in his eyes and blood on his hands. Skye didn't even realise she was backing up until she collided with the wall behind her and slid down, shaking her head. "No...no, no, no...this isn't funny. Where's Dean? I...I need to see him. I need to see him now."_

"_Skye..." Bobby managed to find his voice as he approached cautiously. _

"_Don't!" Skye scrambled to her feet, pressed back against the wall still, shaking her head in denial as her vision became a blur of tears. "Don't. Don't you say it...don't you dare! Please, Bobby, no." The words didn't need to be said. Skye could already see it in their eyes and if she actually heard them say it out loud, her whole world would shatter into a million pieces. _

_Sam remained near the Chevelle, trembling, gutted, his face as blank as his eyes. _

"_You were meant to keep him safe, Sam. You were meant to keep him safe!" Skye launched herself across the porch at Sam, lashing out and punching him in the jaw. Pummelling him with blows across the chest, forcing Sam backwards until a set of strong arms wrapped around Skye and hauled her clear. _

"_Skye! Stop it!" Bobby growled in her ear. _

"_Let go of me!" Skye struggled, trying to break his hold on her, her knees giving way as they both went to the ground. _

_Bobby kept his arms wrapped as tightly as he could around Skye, refusing to let her go. "I got you. I got you. I'm sorry...I'm so sorry.."_

_Anger, pain, disbelief...all welled up inside Skye and unleashed itself in a series of agonised screams as she continued to kick and lash out, battering Bobby until gradually the fight bled away and became sobbing..._

"Stop. Stop it..." Dean pleaded as his vision slowly began to clear at last. His chest was heaving, his lungs aching from hyperventilating in a desperate attempt to breathe through the pain he'd been experiencing. Blood dripped from his lips as he sagged in the chains, barely even conscious now of the pull of the hooks through his flesh. The physical pain was nothing compared to seeing what his death was doing to his family. How long had it been? Was this real? Was it happening now? Or was this the past? Dean had no concept of time any more. Just pain and suffering...and now it seemed that he'd brought Hell to the people he loved.

"Stop? I was just thinking I needed to start popping some corn, maybe invite a few friends over for the show. What do you think, Dean? We could be onto a box office winner here..." The demon sneered, it's rotting putrid lips drawing away from long sharp teeth.

"F-...fuck you." The word slid from Dean's lips in a bloody whisper as his eyes fluttered closed, his body succumbing to the pain and shutting down on him.

"Honestly...no stamina these days..." The demon slid over and ran a nail across Dean's stomach, slitting open the skin before it slid it's hand in and took hold of his insides, squeezing tightly until Dean gasped in agony and reared upwards in his restraints as if he could pull away from the contact, the searing hot pain that was filling his insides. "That's more like it. We wouldn't want you to miss the second act now..."

Dean could hear the hissing, slithering approach of other demons now. Gathering around him to feed off his pain and misery like an all you can eat buffet. That's all he was now to them. Entertainment. The resident dog boy to kick and torment whenever they felt bored...and in Hell? That was often, because Hell wasn't pleasant, even for the demons that resided here. It made sense now for Dean why so many of them had wanted to get upstairs into the world...where he wanted to be. All he wanted was to see Skye again and feel her arms around him. He just wanted to close his eyes and hear her voice taking away all his pain, making him feel safe and loved again.

With a horrible, wet ripping sound, Dean felt his insides tearing free. Instinctively, he tried to reach down to grip the gaping hole in his gut and save himself, but the hooks through his hands and shoulders pulled tight and prevented him. Blood gushed up his throat to choke Dean as a bloody hand gripped his chin tightly.

"Now...it's showtime."

Everything seemed to shift and dissolve suddenly and there it was again...front row seat to the pain and sadness that he had caused.

"_I want to sit with him..." Skye asked, her voice betraying her and breaking as she spoke. Her hand hovered over Dean's head for a moment, trembling wildly before she finally brought it down in a gentle, tender gesture of stroking his hair back from his forehead. It was hard not to focus on the bruising and cuts that marred his face now. _

_They had laid him out on a cot bed in the panic room downstairs, to shield Connor from seeing him. Skye didn't want his last memories of Dean to be tainted by the sight of his injuries and broken neck. _

"_Do you mind if I stay?" John asked quietly, even though he wasn't about to go anywhere. He knew he didn't have to put it into words why he had to sit there. How this was a chance for him to say goodbye that had been stolen from him with Mary._

_Skye shook her head softly, looking at Dean still as her tears fell. There was blood in Dean's hair, specks and small scarlet tracks of it on his face and neck mixed with dirt. It seemed so out of place, so horrible and Skye couldn't bear it. She got up quietly, retreating from the panic room to fetch a bowl of warm water and some cloths. _

_John was still sat quietly near Dean's feet when she returned. His wings were folded up and quietly tucked behind his back, a picture of utter heartache and stillness. As though life itself had stopped. _

_Without a word, Skye sat down quietly, dipping a cloth into the water and squeezing out some of the excess before she started to carefully clean the blood and dirt from Dean's face. Her touch so soft, so careful as though she could somehow hurt him still. After a moment, Skye managed to swallow around the lump in her throat that seemed to want to choke her and found her voice again. "Bring him back..."_

"_I can't."_

_Skye paused and turned slowly to look at John, meeting his watery gaze with hers. "Bullshit. You did it once before. You gave him back to me. You can do it again." _

"_I can't, Skye. It was a one shot deal. He's gone." _

"_No. No, you give him back to me." Skye got to her feet, her voice becoming shakier and choked with emotion with every word. "Give him back! Bring him back!" _

"_I already told you. I can't." The words were ground out now, John sitting up more, his wings shifting behind him as he braced himself before Skye's anger. His own grief was locked away for now. John held it down deep and used it to try and stay strong. If he didn't, his own pain would overwhelm him. _

"_Then what fucking good are you? Sitting there with your wings and your demon blood pumping through you still. What fucking good does that do me or my boys right now?" She struck without warning, slapping John hard across the cheek. _

_John snatched her hand out of the air as Skye moved to strike him again, pulling her close as he stood up, holding her close as her anger was washed away seconds later. Skye sagged in his embrace, crying hysterically as John rubbed her back and tried to calm her again. Her words had stung, but they were only words. Driven by grief. _

_His face was wet with tears, his voice thick and hitching as he spoke. "You think I don't want him back? I'd give anything, Skye. Anything. I'd give up what's left of my humanity if I thought it would save him. But it won't...he's gone."_

_Those words gutted John deeply. He held Skye close, let her grieve, listened to her broken apologies to him over and over again...knowing that this was something he couldn't fix. _

"Such pain...so damn delicious, Dean..." The demon laughed, licking it's long rancid tongue across Dean's chest before it stooped down to take a bite from his stomach. Other demons shifted and howled in anticipation then, before they all fought each other to get to Dean, wanting to taste his pain and loss. Wanting to feast on his misery like it was the finest meal they'd ever known. Dean threw back his head and screamed as they began to devour him, bite by bite, piece by piece.

**XxX**

**Somewhere on the road, South Dakota.**

"Where the hell are we going?"

"Relax, Sam. You said you wanted me to teach you, right? Well...I'm taking you out somewhere nice and quiet where you can practice using those handy little abilities of yours.." Ruby threw him a wink and a smirk, settling down even deeper into the driver's seat of her Mustang.

"I hate how you make it sound like I'm some sort of superhero or something." Sam muttered, his knee bouncing slightly as he continued to stare out of the passenger window, watching the night rush past in a blur of shadow. What was he even doing in this car? Why was he letting himself listen to a demon?

"We could get you a cape. Paint an 'S' on your chest or something?"

"Don't."

"Huh?" Ruby blinked, caught off guard by the sharpness in Sam's voice suddenly.

"Don't say that. Just...just leave it alone." Sam gaze flashed briefly over to Ruby before it went back to looking out the window. Dean used to joke about that sort of thing all the time and Sam couldn't bear to have that memory cheapened by hearing it from a demon's lips. He wasn't a hero. He never would be. His brother was the hero, sacrificing everything for others, even his own life. All Sam had ever done was bring pain to his family. Dean would be alive right now if it wasn't for him bringing the Yellow Eyed demon into their lives...

Now it was up to Sam to fix this.

His hands were curled into fists, the nails biting into the flesh of his palms as his knees kept jittering and bouncing lightly. Sam felt so pent up since they had left the bar, as though there was something inside him just baying to be let loose and run wild. All he wanted to do was get out of this car and just...do something, anything. It was like an electric current charging through him right now. His heart was pounding stronger than ever, the blood rushing in his ears...and all Sam wanted to do was run. Run and run until he found Hell and brought his brother back.

Ruby glanced over at Sam, then shifted her gaze back to the road before he picked up on it.

There was so much untouched potential inside the boy beside her. Just begging to be unleashed and controlled. Sam had no idea how much power was dormant inside him. What he was truly capable of if he allowed himself to tap into it all. The rage and anger that he had unleashed in the wake of his brother's death at Azazel's hands was nothing compared to what he could do if he had full control of it.

But rather than hone those abilities, Sam had let them fade and weaken. Let his humanity take hold of him again. Rapid City had been one bright shining moment when Sam had shown a glimmer of his full potential...and for what? To rescue some girl? Some pale little meatsack that was holding Sam back from all he could be? Ruby would laugh if it wasn't all so damn pathetic really.

It was only a matter of time now, though. Dean was gone for real this time, John Winchester was running himself in circles trying to save a son who was already a corpse and Sam's precious little fiancee wasn't going to be able to keep Sam from his destiny too much longer.

Everything was slowly falling into place at last.

Ruby wasn't stupid. Azazel had blown it. He'd created the ultimate weapon...then tried to shut Sam down when he couldn't control him. Andras might have succeeded too, if he hadn't underestimated his target.

Ruby wasn't about to make the same mistake. When she was done with Sam? He would be begging her to help him. Completely dependant on what she could supply...

It was a perfect plan. Sam was so weak, so broken inside. Flailing and floundering for solid ground again. Barely little more than a week ago, Ruby had found him slumped at a bar. He had been so lost, drowning in hurt with no direction or idea of how to save his brother or himself. It had been all too easy to use that against him...

"_I know you're hurting, Sam. A freaking blind man could see it. I can help you. I can help you get your brother out of Hell." Ruby sat patiently, studying the wreck of a human next to her with what she hoped looked like compassion. _

"_Yeah? And why the hell would a demon want to help me? What angle are you trying to play?" Sam looked at her through bleary, whiskey soaked eyes, swaying gently on his stool. His elbows were aching from digging into the bar as Sam tried to hold himself up. "I already tried selling my soul...and now you're going to sit there pretending to be my friend? How stupid do you think I am?"_

"_Not stupid...determined. Desperate. I know how that feels, Sam. I just want to help you."_

"_Why?" Sam asked again, confusion evident in his glazed eyes that were close to tears. He was so drunk, so emotional and so easily manipulated if Ruby played her cards right. It all came down to knowing what buttons to push and where Sam's Achilles Heel lay..._

_Reaching into her pocket, Ruby pulled out a small folded photograph, opening it out to show a beaming picture of herself with another girl. The pair had their arms around each other, laughing when the shot was taken, the younger girl with Ruby dressed in highschool graduation robes. "My sister, Liz. I was so proud of her that day. We thought she was going to go on and do something with her life..."_

_Sam blinked at the photo, reaching out to take it in his hand so he could see it better. "What happened?"_

"_Suicide." Ruby spat out bitterly, snatching the photo back and returning it to her pocket. "Turns out college was a little tougher than any of us realised." _

"_What's...what's that got to do with me? With Dean?" Sam asked, his mind struggling to put everything together in it's alcohol soaked state. _

"_You think the church is the only one who frowns on suicide, Sam? Where do you think that thinking came from in the first place? My sister's in Hell because she killed herself...it's not right! She was a good kid! She doesn't deserve to be there...and neither does your brother. That's why we should be working together. I scratch your back – you scratch mine...we both get what we want." _

_Sam stared blearily at Ruby, trying to read her eyes before he shrugged ever so slightly, his shoulders barely lifting at all. "What do you want me to do?" _

_Ruby smiled, clapping a hand to Sam's back. "First of all? Have a drink...then we'll see what happens from there."_

Now as she saw the change slowly crawling through Sam's veins again, she fought the urge to smile. It had begun and by the time Sam was even aware of the truth, it would be too late.

He would be her perfect weapon...

**XxX**

**Lawrence, Kansas.**

"John Winchester, I oughta knock the holy hell out of you!"

Standing before the fury of Missouri Mosely, John Winchester couldn't help but feel like a scolded schoolboy somehow and he wondered why he had bothered coming back to Lawrence at all?

The streets were clean, the air fresh with the distant bark of dogs or the occasional siren echoing through the darkness; but this wasn't the city John Winchester had once called home. This was a hollowed out shell that was still climbing back from the darkness that had engulfed it and left nothing but blood in it's wake. Life was returning to the city, but it was slow and cautious now. Streets were still shrouded in darkness, people careful about venturing out at night unless they had to. There were too many demons still stalking the night, mixing with whatever other creatures now felt this world was theirs. Humans kept slipping further and further down the food chain while they tried to turn a blind eye to it all, refusing to accept that their world was no longer the one they had known.

John had been surprised to find that Missouri had moved back to Lawrence. Her house had been burnt down...her life as she had known it was gone. But the psychic was made of tougher stuff than a lot of people John had met in his life and if she had to start again? It was going to be on her terms. If that meant a new house in a new neighbourhood? Then so be it. Lawrence was still home as far as she was concerned and no damn demon was going to chase her out of her home.

" I didn't come here to argue, Missouri. Can you help me or not?" John folded his arms, his wings twitching from time to time in irritation. Every other lead had been a bust lately, he had nothing to lose by calling on his old friend before leaving Lawrence. He'd found out a few months back from Bobby that Missouri had left the hunter safe haven and moved back here. It seemed that while most hunters had gone to ground, Missouri had decided she was done with running.

"And why the hell would I want to do that?" Missouri demanded, pushing past John and making her way to one of the old armchairs that decorated the small living room. "You come on in here, asking questions – just expecting me to drop everything and act like some damn information booth for you! Sometimes things need to be left well enough alone, John!"

"You're talking about leaving Dean in Hell, Missouri."

"I know what it means! I'm not saying I like it! I love that boy like he was one of my own! But I also know that there are lines that shouldn't be crossed, John Winchester and you are playing with fire!"

"I can handle myself -" John began to object, thinking of his half demon side now and the harsh lessons he had learned in Hell.

"It ain't you I'm worried about! There's nothing much left of you that Hell hasn't had it's claws in at some point."

John felt he'd been slapped for a moment, before a small wry smile quirked the corner of his mouth. Missouri had never been one for mincing her words and he realised how much he'd actually missed this fiery little psychic over the past year. She had the ability to be a cool voice of reason when it was needed...even if he had no intention of listening.

" But that boy of yours? He's in deep, John...you're losing him more every damn day and you don't even see it." Missouri sank down into the armchair, looking tired suddenly. A headache was building behind her eyes, throbbing and aching it's way towards a migraine rapidly.

"Wait...losing him? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Sam!" Missouri corrected with a tone that indicated she was in no mood for suffering fools. "That boy is getting himself in deeper and deeper without even realising what's happening to him. If you're not careful, John, you're going to lose both boys. You need to stop this nonsense and see to Sam before it's too late."

John watched Missouri for a moment, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw as he thought about how Sam had looked the last time he'd seen his son. The boy was exhausted, drinking...growing desperate. But how desperate? Just what had Missouri seen? "Sam won't leave Dean in Hell...and neither will I."

"John, please." Missouri pleaded, getting up from her chair and walking to him. Her hand was gentle as she laid it on his arm and tried to make him listen to reason. "You'd do anything for your boy. I get that. I do. But there are times when you have to accept what's happened. You have let go. For everyone's sake. Please..."

"No." The word was final, carved in stone.

"John..."

"Can you tell me where to find Crowley or not?"

"No." Missouri said quietly. "Even if did know, I wouldn't tell you, John. It's not right. I can't be a part of what you and Sam want to do. I'm sorry."

"So am I." John stepped back, his eyes dark with hurt and regret that his old friend wasn't going to back him up this time. There was no room for logic with what he wanted now. This wasn't about what **should** be done, but what **had **to be done. John wasn't going to give up now. "Take care of yourself, Missouri." John threw quietly over his shoulder as he walked towards the front door.

"John Winchester, don't you dare go walking out that door and break my heart!" Missouri growled, looking ready to slug him. "I'm thinking of everyone involved in this, dammit! Skye, Elise, those little boys! You have no idea what you're doing!"

"The hell I don't!" John roared, rounding on her furiously. "No one knows what it's like down there, Missouri. What they do to you, the pain, the torment you're put through. There are no damn words for what it's like...But I know! I was there and I've been through it all and it's tearing me apart to think of Dean knowing even a second of it. It's killing me to think what it's doing to him...and no one has the right to tell me to leave him there."

"John, what you bring back won't even be human any more! How can it be? His body is ashes! There's nothing for him to come back to! You'll be releasing nothing more than a tormented, tortured soul!" Missouri pointed out desperately. She'd always known that John was a stubborn ass, but she didn't think he would so downright reckless. Ever since she had first laid eyes on him again after his return from Hell, John had slowly proven to her that he wasn't the monster they had suspected. But this? Was this the father or the demon side of him that was being so stubborn now? No good could ever come from the path that John and Sam were headed down. Dean's death had taken so much from them already...Missouri couldn't bear to lose Sam and John too. "Will you use that so called brain of yours and think about this for five damn minutes? You could be bringing back something dangerous, John! You could be putting Skye...those babies...all of us in danger! Have you considered that?"

"Of course I have." John countered instantly, his voice low and rough. He held Missouri's gaze for a moment longer, before he turned again, walking to the door. His wings were hanging lower on his back now, his steps a little slower as though he was carrying a weight on his shoulders. "I'm not leaving him there, Missouri...but I won't let anyone else get hurt either. I'll handle it."

Missouri watched the dark shape of John Winchester step up to the front door and grasp the handle as he opened the door. The overwhelming sensation of danger slammed into Missouri, almost stealing her breath before she managed to bark out, "John!"

The warning came too late though as a rifle butt slammed into John's face, rocking his head back before his knees buckled and he collapsed backwards, unconscious with his wings splayed out beneath him, the door slamming open hard enough to punch a hole in the dry wall with the doorknob.

A large man wearing a leather jacket with a fur lining stepped over the threshold, his rifle now aimed casually at Missouri while behind him, she could see several shadowed figures moving onto the porch. "You make a move? And the only thing you'll be predicting is how long it'll take you to bleed out..."

**XxX**

**Philip, South Dakota.**

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Yeah, Sam, I'm kidding you. That's exactly it. This has all been one big fucking joke and this is the punchline." Ruby drawled as she stepped out of her car and took in the building before them.

Sam followed suite, staring at the small whitewashed building with it's quaint little spire and picket fence on either side. It was like something out of a Thomas Kincaide painting. Benign looking to the point of being laughable. "This is a church, Ruby."

"Was a church, Sam. Hey, look...you needed a place to try out those nifty little abilities of yours and I provided. Take a look for yourself...but don't be seen..." Ruby waved a hand in the direction of the church as she leaned back against the hood of her car.

Sam threw Ruby a puzzled look. What the hell was that supposed to mean? How the hell was a church meant to help him and why would a demon, of all things, bring him here? As he slipped through the shadows towards the building, Sam had suddenly never felt so alone and exposed. He'd had given anything in that moment to have Dean at his back, or even his father. Someone he could trust rather than some demon bitch with an agenda Sam wasn't entirely sure he believed.

"What the hell am I doing, Dean?" Sam whispered to himself, an ache settling inside him as he realised the biting reply he was waiting for wouldn't be coming. There was nothing to do but rely on himself now. Sam crept closer, listening to the soft sounds of hymns carrying on the night air towards him. Through the windows on the side, Sam was able to see what appeared to be several families all gathered to pray in the small chapel.

But something felt very wrong about all this. His gut instincts were screaming at him to get out of there. As Sam slipped close enough to pick up the voices better, a chill ran down his spine.

The words were twisted and disgusting versions of their original forms. Blasphemous mockeries of the songs he was expecting to hear. Creeping forward to gain a better view inside, Sam's eyes widened in horror as he saw the reality of the inside of this little chapel. Blood coated the altar at the front, spilling from the body of an elderly priest. The parishioners were all still engrossed in song, heads bowed over their books and clearly undisturbed by the horrific image before them.

A small boy with dark hair shaped in a severe bowl cut and a suit that was obviously getting too small for him to wear much longer, was sat on a pew near the window with his family. Sam estimated he couldn't have been any more than seven or eight years old. Ever so slowly, his head turned to stare at Sam through the glass before his eyes slid over black and a cold, wicked smile curled his cherubic lips. He lifted a hand to his throat and drew one finger across as though it was a blade, his smile growing by the minute.

Sam stumbled back from the window, almost losing his balance. Was this a trap? Was that why Ruby had brought him here? Before he had time to move, a meaty arm locked around his throat and hauled Sam backwards. It was rookie mistake, allowing someone to get the drop on him and one that should have never happened. Sam could almost hear Dean's voice in his head, berating him for getting so damn soft.

_What the hell, dude? You let yourself get jumped like that? I taught you better than that, Sammy. You gotta suck it up and fight this! I don't want you keeping me company downstairs. You hear me? Come on!_

The arm tightened around his throat, choking off any chance of Sam calling out for help or even taking a breath as a voice spat in his ear, "You're not welcome here, Winchester..."

Sam tried to swallow, shift his weight and use his size to his advantage, but the arm seemed to only tighten around his throat more. His feet slid in the soft grass, fighting for purchase and finding none as the pressure built with every desperate gasp Sam made for air. He was like a fish out of water, lungs straining, his mouth opening and closing frantically but without success. Spots were starting to swim before his eyes, the blood pounding in his head like a drum and sounding his death knell.

The arm tensed again, sensing the fight starting to leave Sam as the seconds ticked by. His legs were beginning to buckle, his eyes rolling up in his head as everything slowly faded out to be replaced by nothing by the erratic drumming of his heart as it struggled to keep pace.

And then the world came back to him in a rush of sound, colour and pain as the arm vanished. Sam crashed to the dirt on his back, coughing harshly as his crushed throat struggled to feed his starving lungs. He blinked and shook his head to clear his vision as a gurgling sound came from beside him before the demon hit the dirt, face down.

Ruby wiped the blood from her knife blade and grinned at Sam as she stepped back. "Maybe I was a little premature with that whole cape deal."

Sam pushed himself to his knees as the church doors opened and more than a dozen demons rushed out, running towards them.

"Shit! Sam? Now might be a good time to get that thumb of your ass and do something here..." Ruby was eyeing the group anxiously, ready to bail in a heartbeat. "Seriously..."

The group was almost on top of them now. Men, Women and even a few children, including the boy that Sam had spied through the window. What the hell was he meant to do here? Kill them all? Tear them apart like he had with the National guardsmen? With the demons in that church when he's been protecting Dean and Dad? Part of Sam was screaming at him, _YES! _That was exactly what he should do. And why not? How many of these demons had escaped from Hell? How many of them were killing and destroying lives while Dean was trapped down there, suffering?

The rage began to bubble within Sam, building rapidly and rushing through his veins as the darkness that had been dormant for so long, suddenly found it's voice again. It sang to Sam now, caressing his mind and telling him to just let go...

Lifting his hand to the demon crowd, Sam pushed with his mind and watched as several of them stopped as though they had hit a wall, locked in place and unable to move. But not all of them. Some were still free and picking up speed as they saw the danger now. Charging at Sam with murder on their minds.

Sam pushed again, his hand trembling, his face creasing up with pain as the strain of what he was doing became evident. Blood split from his nose, a white hot fire starting to burn within his mind. His chin trembled, his teeth locked together in a snarl as Sam shuddered and pushed even further. The remaining demons began to falter, slowing as though they were wading through molasses. With a growl of pain, Sam lashed out with his mind and sent the crowd sprawling backwards, crashing in a tangle of limbs and bodies as they were all blown backwards.

It cost Sam dearly and he fell forward, throwing his hands out to stop himself from face planting. Sharp, hot pain was throbbing through his skull, like liquid fire almost. His stomach rolled and rebelled, emptying his earlier drinking binge across the ground. Sam's whole body was quivering as he felt Ruby's hand on his shoulder, before she gently tugged at one arm. "We have to go, Sam. Now."

Stumbling to his feet, Sam allowed Ruby to drag him towards her car. He opened the passenger door and all but fell inside it, his head lolling back against the headrest. Why did he feel so washed out, yet so alive all at once?

Ruby planted her foot and Sam was pushed back in his seat as the car shot out of the church parking lot and into the night. She glanced over at Sam, then grinned. "Well, well, well...you did good back there, Hotshot."

"You set me up."

"Well, duh...we needed a real show of what you can do. This is the big leagues your entering here, Sam. I don't have time to mollycoddle you through this. It's sink or swim...and you passed with flying colours." Ruby's smile turned up another notch.

"My head feels like it's on fire." Sam groaned, dragging a hand over his face. His fingers came away bloody from his nose and he reached down, taking the bottom of his shirt and lifting it to wipe his face clean.

"You're rusty, Sam. That's all. The pain won't last long and the more you use your abilities again? The stronger you'll get. It'll all start coming back to you. You're a natural at this and soon it won't hurt at all. Trust me." Ruby leaned back behind her with one hand, keeping the other on the wheel. She fumbled around in the back for a cooler, knocking the lid off and pulling out a cold bottle of beer before hand it to Sam. "Here, you look like you could use this."

Sam took the beer, twisting the cap off with a shaky hand before he slammed it back hard. He coughed a moment later, sitting forward slightly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grimacing. "It tastes weird..."

Ruby shrugged and cracked her own bottle as she nestled it between her legs. "What? My beer's not good enough for you now?" She arched an eyebrow at him with a teasing grin.

Sam let his tongue slide around his mouth for a moment before he licked his lips. The strange bitter, almost metallic after taste seemed to be fading now along with his headache. His fatigue was slowly sliding away as Sam thought about the close call they'd had. Another mouthful of beer and it seemed to slide down his throat a lot easier. It wasn't the sort of beer he could recall having drank before, but it was cold, refreshing and he'd earned it, right? Instead of screwing up, Sam had come through and shown that he had what it took still to save his brother.

Shifting slightly in his seat, Sam regarded Ruby with a curious eye. "That knife you used...I've seen one before. My Dad has one."

Ruby glanced over at Sam, then reached into her jacket and retrieved the blade, handing it over to him. She could see Sam turning the blade over in his hands, examining the markings on it, the ivory handle. "It's one of the blades of Solomon."

"As in Key of? King Solomon?" Sam's eyes widened and he looked closer at the blade, noting the intricate carvings on the blade itself.

"The one and the same." Ruby nodded, keeping her eyes on the road as she spoke. "There's a story that Solomon had a mighty sword once that was broken in battle. The blade was shattered. He had his servants gather up the broken shards and remake them into six blades. They became lost in time, scattered across the globe. Your Dad must have hunted high and low for his." Of course, Ruby knew all about John Winchester having one of the blades. It made him dangerous and she would be careful not to cross his path any time soon...if at all until she had Sam where she wanted him. Then no one would stop her. Not Daddy, not anyone.

"And it kills demons?" Sam asked, looking more animated now, the colour back in his cheeks.

"Yup. Best protection a girl like me can carry...I'm not exactly going to be high on any demon Christmas lists after what I did back there."

Sam looked down at the blade as he took another drink of beer. His headache was long gone now, his whole body starting to almost hum again. Warm and pleasant. Like he could do anything, be anyone. Take on the whole world if he needed to.

And maybe he would. Whatever it would take to bring Dean back...

**XxX**

**Kyle, South Dakota.**

The house was eerily quiet when Skye finally surfaced from her room. A headache had built up behind her eyes, tight and pulsating. Her eyes felt hot and puffy from crying and all in all, Skye felt like she had been through an emotional ringer. It had been so hard to sit there and stare at Dean's face and hear his voice, that soft chuckle of his. He'd looked so alive, so real that Skye had caught herself reaching out to the screen time and time again to brush her finger tips over his image.

But that had been hours ago now. Skye had watched the tape several times over, trying to tell herself that Dean wasn't really gone, clinging to her denial like it was the edge of a cliff. Now Skye simply felt bone weary. She needed some air, needed to check on her children. Dean had asked Skye to watch over the boys for him and to watch over his family too. He knew how badly the people he loved would be hurting in the wake of his loss. Skye couldn't just curl up and wallow in her grief. There was work to be done, people to care for. Dean had died knowing that Skye wasn't alone and he'd reminded her of that fact and what it meant.

The slightest squeak was the only sound the door made as Skye poked her head inside the nursery to check on her sons. Ethan was lying peacefully in his crib, sucking on his fist as he dreamt of things that Skye could only imagine. She hoped his dreams were more pleasant than anything she'd had lately.

Tip-toeing across the room, Skye could see Connor's small form curled up on his bed, one arm draped over the puppy he had yet to name. Behind him was the much loved and slightly tattered looking Mr Woobie, keeping his ever silent vigil over her son as he had done since Connor was a baby.

Skye carefully pulled the covers over her son, pausing long enough to run her hand over the pup's head as it awoke with a little yawn and watched her. Despite her earlier reservations about letting this pup into their lives, Skye found herself smiling. Maybe Bobby was right? Skye couldn't keep Connor wrapped in cotton wool and after her behaviour earlier that night she wasn't about to win any awards for Mom Of The Year either.

Leaning down, Skye pressed her lips softly to Connor's temple before she turned to leave the room. Half way to the door, her son's sleepy voice froze her in her tracks.

"Sorry, Mommy..."

Skye's head sank towards her chest as her stomach knotted into a ball of icy guilt. She turned back slowly and crossed the floor in a few quiet steps, keeping her voice low so Ethan wouldn't be disturbed. Crouching down beside Connor's bed, Skye let her fingers drift gently through his soft blonde fringe as she smiled at him. "Hey, I didn't mean to wake you, Sweetie. Every thing's okay. I'm sorry for yelling before, okay? I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, Mommy." Connor said sleepily, watching her with tired eyes.

"Yeah? Forgiven already huh?" Skye's voice cracked slightly, betraying her as she felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "Well I'm still sorry. You go back to sleep, okay? I'll see you in the morning." She kissed Connor softly on the forehead then stood up again, ignoring the gentle crack that her knees made in protest. " I love you. Now...sleep..."

Connor smiled briefly before he wriggled deeper under the covers and closed his eyes again, dragging his pup a little closer against him.

Skye remained there, watching for a heartbeat longer than she needed to, a solitary tear escaping to rush down one cheek. The last person in the world she should have snapped at earlier was her little boy. But by the morning it would all be forgiven and forgotten. Skye wished things could be so easily pushed aside when you were an adult. Another moment ticked by before Skye quietly slipped from the room and headed downstairs.

A light was still shining from the Den, where the soft buzz of Bobby snoring could be heard. Skye peered around the doorway and found him sound asleep in his chair, head tipped back, feet up on the desk. A book was perched precariously in his lap as he let rip with another buzz saw snore. Burning the candle at both ends only worked while you still had candle left to burn and Bobby had been sitting up like this for days now, trying to find the answers they needed.

Snatching up a blanket from a chair in the corner, Skye quietly crossed over to the desk and reached out for the book on Bobby's lap. Her fingers had barely closed around it when the sharp click of a gun cocking stopped her cold.

"Skye?" Bobby demanded, the sleep rapidly clearing from his eyes as he lowered the revolver in his hand. One quick pull of the trigger and he'd have taken her head off. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What the hell am I doing? Jesus, Bobby!" Skye exclaimed, clutching at her chest. "You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!"

"You should know better than to sneak up on me.." Bobby grumbled, laying his gun down on the desk.

"Sneak up? I was trying to make you comfortable." Skye snapped, still trying to work out where Bobby had stashed that gun? Did he always sleep with one? Or was he worried about something and keeping it to himself? "Next time I'll poke you with a broom first."

"I'm fine...I just closed my eyes a little too long, I guess." Bobby growled without any real fire in his words as he closed the book on his lap and placed it on the desk beside his gun. "I didn't think we'd see you again this side of sunrise..."

"I just wanted to check on the boys before I went to bed...maybe check the salt lines too."

"I checked 'em earlier, they're fine." Bobby leaned back in his chair as he narrowed his eyes at Skye. "I know how to protect my damn house."

"No, I wasn't-...I didn't mean..." Skye stammered briefly before she clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes for a moment, swearing under her breath. "I didn't mean it like that, Bobby..."

Maybe it would be better if Skye just left things alone until morning? Things would better then, right? Wasn't that how it was supposed to work? But if that was the case? Why did people say it was bad to go to bed angry? The more Skye thought about it, the more she felt her headache growing. She reached up and massaged the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. Lifting her head, Skye looked at Bobby at last. "Look, what I said earlier tonight..."

"I ain't looking for an apology." Bobby leaned back in his chair, lifting a hand to cut Skye off as she opened her mouth to speak again. "Grief's a funny thing. Makes us say things we regret and lash out at the wrong people. I ain't saying it's right...I'm just saying what it is. It happened, it's over now and you need to let it go."

"But -"

"What do you want to hear? That you're forgiven? Fine, you're forgiven."

"Bobby..."

"Dammit, Skye!" Bobby stood up now, his chair skittering back across the floor behind him as he leaned on his hands over the desk, throwing her a cutting look. " I get it, okay? We all get it. But you ain't the only one hurting here. I can't be damn well holding your hand cause you feel bad. I don't have enough for you and Connor and everyone else around here! I'm watching Sam coming apart at the seams and I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do for the boy. So just Let. It. Go."

Skye was lost for words in the face of Bobby's admission. They'd all been leaning on him these past few weeks, needing answers or a shoulder to cry on. Skye hadn't stopped to consider what it was doing to Bobby. "I...God, I didn't think, Bobby."

"Just forget it..." Bobby muttered bitterly, pushing off his desk and brushing past Skye as he headed for the door. He was gone before Skye had the chance to stop him and a few minutes later there was the dull thud of his bedroom door closing upstairs.

Tears welled up in Skye's eyes as she dug her nails into her palms and squeezed her eyes shut. Dean had asked her to look out for everyone. Well, wasn't she just doing a bang up job of that so far?

With a quiet sigh, Skye gently smudged away the tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed some air and a chance to think right now. Clean out the cobwebs in her head. Skye closed the doors to the den behind her and walked up the hallway towards the front door, pushing open the screen door and breathing in the night air as she stepped outside.

Elise was curled up in one of the old chairs Bobby had sitting on his porch, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she sat watching the yard.

"Sam not home yet?" Skye ventured quietly in Elise's direction.

"Nope." The reply was slightly muffled. Elise didn't even look in Skye's direction.

"Do you want some company?"

"Too scared to go back inside just yet?" Elise's face appeared over the edge of the blanket, a small smile on her lips.

"No! I just..." Skye paused mid sentence and chuckled softly. "Alright, you got me. I kinda screwed up in there, before."

"Relax, mate...Bobby's a big boy. You two will have it sorted out tomorrow." Elise assured her before she nodded to an old cane chair sitting on the other side of her. "Pull up a pew...I could definitely do with the company."

"I thought I might have upset you too with what happened at dinner and all that?" Skye took a seat, wishing she'd brought a blanket herself. The night wasn't chilly yet, but it would be before dawn.

"Dinner was a bad idea to begin with." Elise shrugged, the move more of a slight roll of the shoulders than anything else. "I should have just ordered pizza.."

"I am sorry, you know..." Skye offered quietly.

"Shut up, will you? You keep bottling things in all the time and you're gonna blow...plain and simple. No one took it personally, so shut it. Okay? I'm not sitting here with you apologising every five minutes."

Skye chuckled again and nodded. "Okay, okay. But...I am...sorry, that is."

Elise growled lightly and grabbed a cushion from behind her, throwing it at Skye with a laugh. "Shut up!"

Silence fell over the girls for a moment, both of them staring out at the yard. Elise's gaze was fixed on the gate in the distance, waiting for Sam to appear in the Chevelle. Skye's attention was fixed closer to the house, her gaze settled on the Impala sitting out in the lot, gathering dust.

"He'll be home soon, Elise."

"Yeah...I know." Elise sighed softly, settling into her blanket to wait.

**xXx**

_A/N#2: Big things are brewing, guys...we're just getting started ;) Hope you enjoyed!_**  
**


	5. Tearing At The Seams

_A/N: Okay, I know, I know...I suck. This chapter was so overdue it's beyond funny. If anyone is still even reading this? I'll be amazed, but for those of you who are sticking it out with me? THANK YOU! For everyone who is still hanging in there and waiting for updates, I promise the next one won't take forever and a day to be posted. I'm already well at work on it and the muse seems to have gotten over her issues. I could sit here and try to make excuses for all the real life crap that seems to have strangled my muse...but at the end of the day, you don't need to hear it. Just know that I love each and every one of you out there that takes the time to read this and leave me some feedback on it. This story and the characters I have to play with are all precious to me. There will be more soon...I promise. _

_I just want to quickly throw a shout out to LovinJackson and lovinandrew for thier support and arse kicking on this fic. And a huge thanks to both Christie and Manda for thier feedback on this chapter. You guys are all life savers and keep me believing I can do this. I love you guys. _

_Now, on with the show..._

_**~~Hellbent~~**  
_

The throaty rumble of the Chevelle's engine was the first thing to awake Elise. Her eyes squinted against the sudden assault of the sunlight and she found herself blinking rapidly to try and stop them from watering. Sunlight? It was morning? Where the hell had Sam been all night?

At some point during the twilight hours, Skye had apologised for bailing on Elise and had slipped back into the house where she sought the warmth of her own bed. But there would be no such solitude for Elise until Sam was finally home. Lying in an empty bed worrying about whether or not Sam was in danger wasn't exactly going to help. So she'd stayed put with her blanket wrapped around her, finally falling asleep at some point it seemed.

The sight of Sam climbing out of the driver's seat sent a wave of relief through her that left her legs trembling for a moment. The memory of Skye's nervous pacing, waiting for Dean to return was still too damn fresh in her mind. Standing up and stretching, Elise shrugged off her blanket and stepped forward to meet Sam as he reached the porch.

The grin plastered across Sam's face as he saw Elise froze and then faltered as he spied the abandoned blanket behind her. "Were you waiting up for me?"

Elise looked at Sam as though he was insane, her relief rapidly souring along with her mood. "Of course I waited up for you! What the bloody hell did you expect me to do, Sam? You take off to meet some stranger about that Crowley guy and you don't think I'll wait up for you to get home? Seriously?"

There was something not right here. Sam had left the house like a permanent set of storm clouds was following him. It was how he had been since Dean had died and other than brief moments of peace when he caught snatches of drunken sleep, there had been no change in his mood...until now.

"Hey, relax...I know what I'm doing." Sam assured her, kissing Elise lightly on the forehead.

"Sam..." That wasn't the answer she was looking for. Where the hell had he been? What had he been doing?

"I'm fine...really." Sam moved to step past Elise and head into the house. "Man, I'm starved, you think there's a chance Bobby's got some bacon and eggs I could cook up?"

Elise caught Sam's arm and pulled him back as he reached for the door handle. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?"

"Don't what me, Sam...you come waltzing in here like everything is just bloody peachy and I'm supposed to just cop it on the chin? Are you drunk?" Elise demanded, folding her arms across her chest. Sam didn't smell like booze...at least, not like he had in the past. His eyes seemed clear...clearer than she'd seen them in weeks. So why was her gut screaming that something was wrong?

"What? No! Elise, I'm fine...really." Sam tried to assure her, his face ticking with annoyance now.

"Then what's the story?" Elise pressed, her stomach knotting up inside her.

"There's no story!" Sam insisted as he turned and pulled open the door, stepping inside with Elise right on his heels. All he wanted now was some breakfast, maybe some coffee. Not a barrage of questions about where he had been. How the hell could he explain to Elise about the bar he'd been to? The church he'd seen? About Ruby of all things? Sam didn't want Elise freaking out. He finally felt closer than he had been in weeks to getting the answers he needed. His confidence was returning, his head felt clearer – Sam was finally getting back in the game and it felt good! Why couldn't Elise just see that and be happy about it?

"Then why won't you just tell me where you were? God, I'm not the bloody Spanish Inquisition, Sam! I just want to know you're okay when you're out there. I'm worried about you!" Elise threw at him, her voice lifting in anger now they were inside. Sam was being evasive with her. Why? What had gotten into him? Oh...oh shit. Was that it? Had something gotten _inside _Sam? Did that explain the sudden change in him? Elise was all but holding her breath as she stepped forward cautiously and spoke the word quietly. "Christo..."

Sam slowly turned, his expression a mixture of hurt and surprise. "What the hell? I'm not fucking possessed, Elise!"

"I wish you were! " Elise yelled at him, folding her arms as her eyes filled with tears. "Cause at least that would explain why you'd lie to me!"

Sam blinked for a second, feeling as though he'd been slapped. "You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" Elise snapped hotly.

Sam softened then, reaching for Elise to try and calm things down. This wasn't how he wanted things between them. "Hey, Elise...come on, come here."

"No, fuck off!" Elise spat, slapping his hand away as she turned her back. "You want to play secret agent, Sam? Be my guest...just don't expect me to sit up waiting any more. I must have fucking rocks in my head!"

"Elise! Elise, damn it, wait!" Sam called after her as Elise spun on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen. She was up the stairs in seconds and Sam flinched as he heard their bedroom door slam before the soft wail of Ethan's cry filled the air.

"Shit..." Sam ran a hand through his hair. He'd royally screwed that up. But what other option did he have? Telling Elise the truth wasn't going to make her feel any better about what he was doing and Sam couldn't let anything screw it up now. Not now. He was close. So close to finding Crowley, to bringing Dean home. It was just a little longer...and then he could make it up to Elise.

Everything would be alright then...

**~~Hellbent~~**

"_So..." A finger gently traced her jawline and down her neck to her collarbone. Feather light and teasing, setting off butterflies in Skye's stomach as she stared into the greenest eyes she had ever seen in her whole life. Eyes that she had thought were lost to her forever...but here they were – wide, green and sparkling with amusement as Dean lay beside her. "You know one of us has to get up right? " _

_Skye let her lips puff out in a pout and snuggled in closer to Dean's chest. "Nope... I'm good right here, thanks very much." _

_A gentle chuckle rumbled through Dean's chest as Skye pressed her ear against it and closed her eyes. He was so warm, his arms tucked around her, holding her so close against him that she could hear his heartbeat lazily thumping in his chest. The sun was clawing its way through the curtains ever so slowly and Skye couldn't remember the last time she had felt this content. Her hand was splayed over Dean's hip and she smiled as she found herself tucked in under his chin. As if they fit together like puzzle pieces. Complete again. _

"_You can't stay, can you?" Skye asked, breathing in the scent of soap with a underlying hint of gun oil. _

"_Nope...wish I could. " Dean replied, shifting slightly so he could look at Skye, his green eyes following every line, as if he was committing her face to memory. He leaned forward then, kissing her softly on the bridge of her nose. " Wake up, babe..."_

Skye's eyes snapped open with her next breath, already aware of the emptiness of the bed beside her. She rolled over, sliding her hands over the empty space beside her, tears sliding down her cheeks and fading into the pillow. There'd been so many nightmares since Dean had died...but it was these dreams that hurt the most. Those dreams that left you feeling warm inside, as though every sense was buzzing still from the experience. The ones where just for one moment, you forgot the truth, forgot the pain and the loss that hollowed you out inside.

From downstairs, Skye could just make out the sound of Sam and Elise's voices. Arguing. Footsteps were heard pounding up the stairs outside her door, followed by a door slamming shortly after.

Ethan's cry cut through the air, stirring Skye into action at last. She sat up and swung her feet to the floor, reaching for the jeans that were lying in a pile on the floor beside the bed. A loose t-shirt, one of Dean's if Skye remembered rightly, was next. It still held a faint echo of his scent and Skye hated that she would have to eventually wash it and lose even that small reminder of him.

Bare feet made no sound as Skye slipped across the hallway to the nursery. Opening the door she discovered that Connor had dragged his toy box over to Ethan's crib and was standing on it, his little hands dangling Mr Woobie over the side of crib as he tried to soothe his brother.

Skye smiled as she ran her hand over Connor's head. "Hey there, buddy, what you doing?"

"Efan's sad, Mommy...Woobie's gonna make him better again." Connor explained, dancing the tattered bear for his brother.

"I think a bottle would work better, sweetie, but I'm sure Ethan would love for you to make Mr Woobie dance for him again after breakfast? What do you say? I'll make pancakes?"

"Pancakes!" Connor yelled excitedly, an excited smile bursting forth as he turned and jumped off the toybox and bolted from the room with an excited puppy in tow. Skye shook her head gently as she laughed, hearing her eldest son still whooping with excitement all the way down to the kitchen.

"Your brother's gonna get us in trouble with Bobby..." Skye said to Ethan as she scooped him up from the crib and held him close, breathing in that soft baby scent. For a moment, Skye stood there, cuddling Ethan as her mind wandered to Dean. He was missing so much and her heart ached for what her boys had lost in turn. "Come on...before Connor wakes up the whole house, huh?"

Still cradling Ethan against her chest as she walked into the kitchen, Skye was surprised to see Sam standing there, nursing a coffee in his hands and grinning as Connor babbled to him excitedly. "An' we're having pancakes with syrup an' budder an' everyfing! Right, Mommy?"

"That's what I promised, wasn't it? Hey Sam, nice to see you got home okay."

"Oh hey, here...Let me take the little guy for a moment." Sam all but launched up from the counter he'd been leaning against, holding out his hands to Skye and Ethan.

"You sure? I just need to warm up his bottle." Skye hesitated for a moment, before deciding to allow Sam to take Ethan. What the hell had gotten into him? This wasn't the Sam she had watched leave the house last night. That Sam had been a walking storm cloud that tended to put the boys on edge. But this Sam? He was smiling...there was a sparkle in his eyes. It was ...dare she say it – eerie?

"You're in a better mood today...everything went well last night then?" Skye casually threw the question over her shoulder at Sam as she set about warming the bottle and mixing up the pancake batter. The simple structure of making breakfast allowed her to maintain her calm right now while a thousand questions flew through her head. What the hell had gotten into Sam? Was this why she had heard arguing before? Seeing Sam like this had to have thrown Elise off. It was like a completely different man had walked through the door... night and day different.

"I've got a few leads..." Sam shrugged, the move a little too casual for Skye's liking. "I'm getting closer to Crowley."

"Finally...I was starting to think the guy was Santa Claus." Skye poured the first of the mixture in the pan, then took the bottle out of the warmer and tested it on her bare wrist. "Here, swap with me. "

Sam handed Ethan over and took the spatula from Skye in one fluid move, stepping up to the stove in time to flip over the pancake perfectly. Skye made herself comfortable, sitting at the table, nursing Ethan with a practised hand as she popped the bottle into his mouth and let Sam handle breakfast. A stack of hot pancakes was soon cooked and sitting before Connor. His eyes lit up with sheer glee as he poured syrup over the stack and prepared to tuck into them.

"Connor, sweetie? How about you take your breakfast into the other room and watch cartoons?"

Connor eyed his plate, then his mother with a frown. "But I'm not s'posed to eat 'n front of the tv, Mommy. Bobby said so."

"It's okay, hun. He won't mind this time. Go on..." Skye smiled pleasantly as Connor gathered up his plate and headed for the door. He paused for a moment and looked back. "Everyfing okay, Mommy?"

"Everything's just fine, sweetie. I promise. Now go watch cartoons, okay?"

"'Kay..." The tv could be heard softly filling the air a moment later.

"Alright, Sam. What's the real story?" Skye's pleasant demeanour was instantly replaced by a 'cut the bullshit' glare that all but pinned Sam to the counter he was leaning against.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam couldn't help but bristle. Feigned ignorance wasn't a good look on him.

"You know exactly what that means. I don't know what the hell happened out there last night, but whatever it was? It was more than just getting a step closer to Crowley." Skye was icy, yet calm, trying not to upset Ethan as he slowly drifted off in her arms, sated from his feed. "What have you been doing?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? I thought you said you're a step closer to Crowley?"

"I am."

"And how's that nothing, Sam?"

"It's not – that's not what I meant. I'm just saying you don't need to worry, okay? I've got everything under control." Sam fumbled, clearly frustrated at being grilled again for the second time that morning.

"Control? That's what you're calling this?" Skye arched an eyebrow at Sam.

"Excuse me?" Sam cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing at Skye as he went on the defensive.

"Cut the bullshit, Sam. What's going on with you?"

"I told you. Nothing. I'm fine."

"Fine? Is there another definition of that word? Because you're not fine, Sam. You're not. I don't know what it is you're up to, but whatever it is? It's not good. "

"Why? What's not good about it?" Sam demanded, pushing away from the counter now. He folded his arms and Skye leaned back in her chair slightly, not liking the vibe she was getting from him now.

"I'm not trying to pick a fight here, Sam..."

"Really? Because from where I'm standing? It's looking a lot like you're sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong. You're not my fiancée, Skye...and you're sure as hell not my brother. Don't think you can take his place now he's gone."

"Take his place? That's what you think this is?" Skye pushed herself up onto her feet now, Ethan still asleep against her chest. "Look at yourself, Sam! When you walked out that door last night? Elise was worried you might have ended up wrapped around a pole! She's been worrying herself sick all night that you wouldn't come home. It's what's scared her every damn night you've left here. You don't tell us where you're going; you never say who you're with..."

"I'm doing what I have to!" Sam suddenly snapped, watching Skye take a step back from him. Ethan startled awake a second later and began to bawl as Skye tried to soothe him.

"I'm doing everything I can to get my brother back, Skye. I thought you'd have understood that! I thought you'd want that?" Sam started pacing the kitchen, his whole body tense and pumped up like a wild animal looking for an exit.

"Of course I want Dean back, Sam! But I don't want to lose you in the process!" Skye moved then, still bouncing Ethan ever so gently to calm him as she tried to block Sam's path and get him to listen to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Connor standing in the hallway just outside the kitchen. His blue eyes were wide and filled with tears as he looked at Sam.

"No one's losing me, Skye! I can do this. I'm close to bringing Dean home. You just have to trust me...please. I'm so damn close I can feel it." Sam pleaded, needing someone to back him up right now.

"But at what price, Sam?" Skye asked him.

"Not my soul if that's what you're worrying about. I'm not worth enough. They already had a better deal." Sam suddenly spat at Skye as her words hit a raw nerve.

Skye tightened her arms around Ethan, feeling as though the air had been sucked from the room. Azazel's voice seemed to echo in her mind, recalling the night she had thought she was miscarrying.

_"His soul's not worth anything to me. Not even a nickel. But your son? That's something else…tell Dean when you seen him that he should always read the fine print before he signs anything…" _

A better deal...the pieces kept falling into place, no matter how much Skye wanted to ignore it. Her son had been part of her deal. He was what Azazel wanted now that Sam had refused to step up and follow his destiny. Skye felt sick to her stomach, cradling Ethan closer even as her mind was spinning with the thought that he could be more like his uncle than any of them would have ever thought.

And just like his Uncle, Skye was determined that Ethan would have his own life. There was no such thing as destiny. She wasn't allowing some demon to tell her what her son would be. Sam had walked away from what he had been destined for...why couldn't Ethan?

"I'm not talking about you making a deal, Sam. They don't need to make you sell your soul for us to lose you..." Skye told him, trying to get through to Sam. "Please, Sam. I've lost Dean... I don't want to lose you too..."

"Or Poppy..."

Skye and Sam turned as one as Connor's small voice suddenly cut through their conversation. The little boy was still standing there, watching them both. His eyes were huge, brimming with tears as he clutched his puppy in his arms. "Ev'ryone keeps goin' 'way...like Daddy, did. Poppy's gone too."

"Oh no...no, sweetie, Poppy's not gone. He's going to be back real soon..." Skye crouched down to Connor's level, mindful of the wriggling pup in his arms that was trying to lick Ethan now. "He's just busy, that's all..."

"Promise?" Connor's bottom trembled ever so slightly.

"We both do, buddy." Sam joined in then. He crouched down beside Skye, smiling at Connor, his argument forgotten. "Hey, that little guy looks like he's waiting for a walk. How about you take him outside huh? Your Mom and I need to clean up the kitchen before Bobby wakes up. Otherwise he's gonna be a grumpy bear..."

"Like a real bear?"

"Worse." Sam winked at him, his smile widening a notch as he made Connor giggle. The front door closed with a bang as Connor raced outside with his puppy jiggling awkwardly in his arms.

Sam straightened up and headed for the kitchen, clearly thinking of anything but cleaning up as Skye followed behind him.

"Sam?"

"Shhh!" Sam held up a hand to Skye as he closed his eyes. He opened his mind, reaching out to his father and expecting to find the familiar thought patterns he had become accustomed to. But there was no reply, nothing at all to answer Sam's searching and a pit formed in his stomach as he opened his eyes again. "I can't find him..."

"Well...you're rusty, right? Maybe you just need some practice? Maybe he's...out of range?" Skye hated sounding like such a novice to the whole concept of Sam's abilities. Sure, he'd still been connecting with Dean through his dreams, but Skye had grown accustomed to that. It just seemed like part of Sam and lately Skye had almost wished it wasn't as she saw the pain it put him through. The drinking, the haunted look that Sam had been carrying for weeks...watching Elise worrying herself sick and feeling helpless. As far as Skye had been concerned, the less Sam tapped into his abilities? The better it was for all of them.

"No...I told you before, I'm stronger now." Sam tried again, finding that there wasn't any pain now. The headaches, the sensation of molten lava behind his eyes...it was all gone. It was so easy to reach out with his mind since last night and Sam wondered if something had flipped inside him? Maybe Ruby had been right after all.

"Stronger? Stronger how?" Skye asked, not liking what she was hearing at all. Just what the hell had Sam been doing when he went out?

"Nothing...damn it, Dad, where the hell are you?" Sam growled as he severed the connection and opened his eyes again. It wasn't just the lack of response...it was the lack of anything at all. Sam couldn't sense the slightest trace of his father. It was like he'd vanished from the face of the earth.

**~~Hellbent~~**

**Lawrence, Kansas. **

A lot of possibilities crossed John's mind of who or what he would see when he opened his eyes. However, Missouri – bound and gagged before him – wasn't one of them. His head was keeping its own tempo in time with his heart beat, except at around a thousand decibels louder than he ever would have liked. It was almost as if the skull itself was pulsating like some living thing in time to his heart and John swallowed back bile as his stomach rolled.

He could feel a thin trickle of blood above his eye, slide down the lip of his eyelid before it filled his vision red. The stinging that followed elicited a growl from deep within as John shook his head, blinking to clear his eyes.

"Well, well, well...I told you boys, didn't I? I told you that there was a reason we'd come here. And here it is...God's handed us the answer we've been looking for."

God? John blinked furiously, clearing enough of his vision to finally make out several men standing near the corner of the room where Missouri was tied up. Demons? No...they didn't smell like demons. It was more of a scent of gun oil and a lack of showering. Which could only mean hunters and for John? That meant trouble.

Studying the faces, John thought he recognised a few from the days of when he had actually been hunting. Good men who would have moved in the same circles as John over the years. But one face in particular was well known to him. A man who had been friends with Gordon Walker...

Kubrick.

John felt weary just looking at Kubrick and seeing the smug smile on the bastard's face. This was going to be one hell of a long night, that much was certain now. Kubrick was more of a nutjob than Gordon had been, always believing that God had called him into hunting...that the good Lord himself was guiding him. There'd only been a couple of hunts when John had been unfortunate to cross paths with the man, but they had never seen eye to eye. Not when it came to God and destiny. John wasn't exactly favorable towards either idea and judging by the gleam he could see in Kubrick's eyes right now? Things were going to get messy...

"You and your boys, John...you're living proof of everything that's wrong with this world right now. Good folks are dying while demon scum like you and that boy of yours are still walking the Earth. It ain't right. It ain't right that a hunter like Gordon Walker should die at your hands." Kubrick spat coolly as he approached John and stood over him.

"Gordon blew himself up, Kubrick. Smartest thing he ever did if you ask me, because I wouldn't have let him die so damn quick." John growled, taking a moment to check his surroundings and how he was restrained. Kubrick hadn't taken any chances at all. John was securely chained to a chair that had been bolted to the floor in the midst of a devil's trap. His hands were cuffed to the arm rests, his legs chained to the legs of his chair. Two heavy chain shackles had been used to restrain his wings out on either side, cutting in around the bone and through the skin and feathers, making it painful to move them at all.

"As you can see? We've made sure that you're not going anywhere. We've covered the room with shielding runes. You're off the grid, John. No one knows where you are. That psychic freak you call a son has no idea where you are and he's not going to know until we're ready for him..."

John cast a trained eye around the room and quickly picked out the runes that Kubrick had been talking about. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to start shaking in my shoes?" he asked dryly. He wasn't about to give Kubrick the slightest glimmer of fear. At his worst, this son of a bitch was still a rank amateur to John's time in Hell.

His answer was a hard back hand that snapped his head to the side and split his bottom lip. Blood welled from the wound, running down his chin and dripping to the floor in small pool at his feet.

"Let's get one thing clear, Winchester. You're bait and nothing more..."

"Bait for what? Sam?" Was that it? They were hoping to lure Sam here? Have his boy walk into a trap? These meat heads had no idea who they were dealing with if they thought Sam would be that stupid...

"What are you really up to, Kubrick? Normally I'd love to play twenty questions with you...but I'm too damn sore and tired to really give a rat's ass right now about what you think God's telling you do." John said darkly before he nodded in Missouri's direction. "Whatever it is? Doesn't involve her being bait, so how about you trying raising the already low opinion I have of you and act like a fucking human being? Let Missouri go."

"Human being? Oh that's rich coming from you. Sorry, John, but the seer stays. I can't have her ruining my plans."

John glanced over to Missouri again, finding it hard not to smirk at the glare she fired back in his direction. It would be typical of her to be pissy with John for wanting her out of harm's way. Damn stubborn woman never did know when to back off.

"You know, Kubrick? I thought you were smarter than this. Using me as bait for Sam? If you've heard anything about Sam at all, you have to know that's a bad idea? He'll tear this place apart brick by brick to find me." Okay, so John was laying it on a little thick. But if there was one thing he knew about his son? It was how he would react to this in the wake of Dean's death. It was likely to get bloody...very bloody. John didn't need these stupid misguided sons of bitches driving Sam over the edge.

"Oh I'm counting on that, John." Kubrick was all smiles again. That damn smug grin that John wanted to smack off his face so badly. With the soft, ominous sound of metal on leather, Kubrick drew his knife from his belt sheath and held it up for John to see. "This blade? Consecrated steel from the sword of a Knight in the Crusades. Took me a long time to find a blade like this, but well, you Winchesters opening that Hell's Gate? Gave me so many more reasons to need it."

"Glad I could be so helpful." John muttered.

Kubrick started pacing now, walking back and forth in front of John as though he was a teacher trying to impart a lesson. "Ever hunted for sharks, John? I have...and the best way to bring in a shark? Is to chum the water before you bait the hook."

John's eyes were fixed on the blade in Kubrick's hands now as he tensed up, waiting for the next move. "What the hell's your problem, Kubrick? Sam's no threat to you..."

Kubrick rounded on John suddenly, lashing out with a backhanded fist that opened up John's bottom lip even more. "Lie, Lie, Lie!"

John shook himself as pain arched along his jaw, his head snapping violently to the side. He turned back slowly, glaring darkly at Kubrick before he spat a wad of spittle and blood at the man's feet.

"It's interesting what you can find out from a demon. No loyalty for their own kind, huh? Not if they think they can save their own skin by giving us something we want more...and that's where you come in, John. This demon I talked to? He told me all about you, your boys...everything. I've been hunting you ever since. So you imagine my disappointment when I heard that Dean was already dead..."

"You piece of shit."

Kubrick knelt down before John, gently tapping the tip of the blade he was holding against his cheek. His eyes were locked on John as Kubrick called over his shoulder. "Alright boys, it's time. Watch your backs, don't underestimate Singer and I don't want to hear from you again until it's done. "

A frown settled over John's brow as he narrowed his eyes at Kubrick, pulling at his restraints futilely. "Bobby? What the hell's going on? What do they want with Bobby?" An uneasy feeling was turning his stomach to ice as John watched the other hunters in the room gather up their things and head up the basement stairs.

"It's God's work I'm doing here, John. You and your boys? You opened that Hell's Gate. You unleashed all those demons on the world and tried jump starting the apocalypse on us!"

"Jump start? We closed that gate you stupid-..." The rest was lost in a ragged roar of pain as Kubrick drove the knife he was holding down to the hilt through the top of John's shoulder. It just kissed the bone, the pain seeming to sink right to the core of John's tainted soul.

"I don't need to hear your lies, Winchester. You tried bringing Hell down on all of us and now God's shown me the way to restore the balance. That demon I tortured? Told me all about the baby. So the way I see it? I take you and Sam down plus the kid? And it's a good day in the office for me." Kubrick released his hand from the knife and left it embedded in John as he stood up again.

"Ethan?" John hissed out through gritted teeth, fighting against the searing heat radiating through his shoulder and along his arm. "You're going after Ethan? He's just a fucking kid!"

"Lie, lie, lie again!" Kubrick barked, grabbing the knife and twisting it sharply until he had John snarling and writhing in his chains. "I know all about it, John! That demon was very helpful in the end! The demons have plans for the kid and God wants me to stop it before it's too late."

Sweat was running down John's face now, mixing with the blood and sliding from his chin in scarlet drops. It all made sense now. Why they had grabbed him, why he was bait for Sam. They needed him away from Bobby's to get to Ethan.

"Oh and before you go getting any ideas of giving Sam some sort of psychic warning about what he's walking into? I wouldn't get too worked up..." Kubrick wrenched the knife out of John's shoulder, eliciting a scream from him that had Missouri crying out through her gag. "...There's not going to be enough left of you to spell out SOS by the time I'm done here."

**~~Hellbent~~**

**Singer's Autoyard, Kyle, South Dakota. **

"Sam, just stop and think about this for a moment." Skye demanded as she followed Sam out the front door. They'd done nothing but argue since Sam had realised he couldn't contact John. Skye understood his fear. She really did. Dean's death was so fresh for them all and the last thing anyone wanted was another body to mourn. She didn't even know how she would begin to explain it to Connor if something had happened to John. First Dean, now John? It's was too much for any of them to deal with. "You can't just go storming out of here like some half baked cavalry!"

"Watch me."

"You've got no idea where to even start looking! What the hell are you going do? Drive around until you pick something up on your psychic radar? It's fucking crazy!" Skye reached out and grabbed Sam's sleeve, trying to turn him around.

Sam shook her off easily and stepped off the porch, intent on heading for the Chevelle. "I know what I'm doing, Skye."

"No - you don't, Sam. You're freaking out and you don't have the first fucking idea of where to start looking. Please, just stop and think!" Skye pleaded.

Sam half turned in mid stride, still arguing. "There's no time!"

"Make time, son."

Skye almost crashed into Sam as he stopped in his tracks and turned to find Bobby standing in front of the Chevelle's driver's door, his arms folded across his chest. Judging by the set of Bobby's jaw? He had no plans of moving any time soon.

"Bobby, what the hell...?"

"What? You think I could sleep through you two trying to damn well out shout each other? I hate to take sides, Sam, but Skye's right. You ain't going anywhere."

"Bobby, come on..."

"Oh come on nothing! I don't know what the hell's gotten into you, kid, but despite what you think? You're not Superman."

"I know that!" Sam snapped sharply, watching the way Bobby seemed to draw up slightly as if he was ready to defend himself against attack. He didn't mean to put Bobby on edge, but Sam didn't need to hear those words. Not from him, not from Ruby, not from anyone. Sam had no illusions of what he was. He didn't wear a cape, he didn't save the day. He couldn't even save his big brother.

" How long's it been since you last slept?" Bobby narrowed his eyes at Sam.

"I'm fine."

"And I'm Mother Theresa. I've told you before, Sam, don't try and con a Con man. You're running on fumes, no matter what you seem to be trying to tell yourself. Now I ain't letting you go anywhere until you've had some goddamn sleep, so get your ass up to bed before you find my foot planted in it." Bobby stated firmly. "I'll make some calls, see if I can't find some sort of a lead for you to follow. If that don't work? I've got a few locator spells I can dig up, see if they can't give us some sort of idea of where the hell to start looking."

Skye remained silent behind Sam, watching the whole argument unfold between Bobby and the younger hunter. She prayed that Sam was going to listen to reason right now, even if she understood his frustration. Whatever might have happened to John – if anything had happened – they couldn't rush off half cocked.

After what felt like almost an eternity for Bobby and Skye, Sam's shoulders seemed to sag slightly before he nodded gently. "Alright...alright. You've got 24 hours."

With that, Sam turned and walked back to the house without a backward glance.

"You need a hand with that research?" Skye asked.

"I can handle it." Bobby replied evenly, pushing off the car and heading towards the house.

Skye turned slowly, watching him go. Yep, he was still pissed at her. Skye sighed, raking a hand through her long brown hair and taking a moment to consider her next move before she sighed and went inside.

**~~Hellbent~~**

Sam hesitated momentarily as he raised his hand to knock on the bedroom door. He couldn't hear any sound from the other side to indicate if Elise was even in there. Was that a good thing? Sam didn't exactly feel any better just because he couldn't hear crying or furniture breaking through the door. Another heartbeat of indecision followed before Sam finally lowered his hand and opened the door quietly instead.

Elise was curled up on the bed with her back to Sam, hugging a pillow to her chest.

"Elise? You awake?" Sam ventured cautiously, closing the door behind him. The lack of reply had Sam's heart sinking. He could tell from the way Elise was curled into her pillow that she was awake. So she wasn't just ignoring him, she was shutting him out. He'd really done it this time.

Perching gently on his side of the bed, Sam turned and placed a hand on Elise's shoulder. "Elise, come on...talk to me?"

His answer was Elise stiffly jerking her shoulder out from beneath his hand. Sam left his hand hovering for a few more seconds before it slowly closed and he withdrew it. Right in that moment, Sam had never felt so alone, knowing that he was the reason behind Elise's cold shoulder.

"I'm not trying to shut you out, Elise. I swear." Sam began. He couldn't tell Elise the whole truth of what he had been doing. Sam couldn't tell anyone. They wouldn't understand and he couldn't afford them to try and stop him. Not now. But that didn't mean he wanted to keep hurting Elise. Sam just needed to choose his words carefully. A few half truths was better than no truth at all...right?

"I've been going to a bar..." Sam ventured quietly, forcing himself to tell Elise all this even as she refused to acknowledge his presence. "It's a demon bar, which is why I haven't been taking you with me. It's not that I don't want you there, or that I'm scared of you seeing what I'm doing out there...it's just that I'm scared you'd get hurt. I needed to know you were safe. I always need to know that you're safe, Elise."

Elise didn't respond or acknowledge Sam in any way except to seem to draw her pillow in tighter.

"This bar. It's the best place to get word of Crowley. I'm close, Elise. Real close. I can feel it. They're starting to get used to me at that bar...and then they'll start talking."

Something twisted inside Sam as he heard the lies roll of his tongue so easily. No mention of Ruby. Elise didn't ever need to know about her. About the truth of what Sam was doing and where he was going. It could only hurt her and Sam had already hurt enough people he loved.

"I need to do this. If I can find Crowley, I can find Dean, I can bring him home." Sam explained, feeling an ache fill his chest and lock up his throat. "It's...it's like something's broken inside me. Ever since Dean died. I need to fix this, Elise. I miss him. Every damn day. Every damn minute that he's gone. There just this gaping hole in the world where Dean used to be and it's like I can't breathe anymore."

Tears spilled down Sam's face and he swiped them away, fighting to compose himself again. "I just...I just need you to trust me. That's all. I need you to believe in me. I've already lost Dean...I can't lose you too."

There was still no response, no movement from Elise. Sam let out a shaky breath as his shoulders slowly slumped in defeat. Fine. He was too tired to fight any more and really, could he blame Elise for turning her back on him after weeks of watching Sam crawling into one bottle after another as the grief of losing Dean tore him apart?

Pulling his shirt over his head, Sam dumped it on the floor and reached down to unbuckle his jeans. It took a moment to kick them off before he finally crawled under the covers, the stillness of the room almost deafening to him as he settled and closed his eyes to try and sleep. At that moment, Sam felt utterly alone, despite knowing he was in a house full of people who cared about him.

But as he lay there, trying to shut down his mind and just give into the exhaustion now tugging at him...the bed shifted slightly and ever so slowly a hand slipped over his waist as Elise drew up behind him and curled in as close as she could.

Tears stung Sam's eyes as he felt Elise's warm breath against his neck and shoulder. It was a silent signal of truce and Sam slid a hand down to cover Elise's as it sat over his waist, threading his fingers through hers. He knew he owed her the complete truth...but there would be time for that when he had Dean back and his family was whole again. For now? Sam was simply grateful to have Elise at his side still and he wouldn't allow anything to take that from him.

**~~Hellbent~~**

There was a set to Bobby's jawline that almost had Skye turning around and walking away from the Den at first. She was paused just outside the doorway, cradling Ethan in her arms, gently rocking him back and forth while in her mind, a millions different apologies for the night before, ran on a loop.

"You plan on standing there all night? Or do you wanna take a photo? Something to carry around with you..." Bobby grumbled without looking up from the book in front of him.

"I...uh..." _Will you stop pussying out and just talk to the guy? _Skye shook her head to chase away the ghost of Dean's voice in her mind and stepped forward with a sigh. "I thought you might need a hand. You know, tag team on the research while you make those calls?"

"I've got it all under control."

"I'm sure you have...but I'm still gonna help, so deal with it." Skye said, deciding to bite the bullet and enter the room. She sat on the couch at the side of Bobby's desk, gently shifting Ethan in her arms so he was comfortable while giving her more room to balance a book beside her. "So...what are we looking for? You said something to Sam about locator spells before? Is there something in particular I should be looking for?"

"You don't wanna go getting in the middle of all this, Skye."

"I'm already in the middle of it, Bobby. I have been for a long time...now are we going to sit here and argue about that or are you going to tell me where I should be looking?"

Bobby stood up and grabbed a couple of old leather bound books from his desk, walking them around to Skye and putting them beside her on the couch. "Fine, start looking in there. I remember there being something about using an amethyst crystal to track someone's whereabouts, but I'll be damned if I remember what the hell you're supposed to say at the time."

"Do you think this'll work? " Skye asked as she opened the first book and began to carefully sift through the pages.

"The hell if I know..." Bobby shrugged. "It's not like John's on the top of anyone's Christmas list. The few hunters that know he's back? Would sooner send his ass to Hell than buy him a beer. I'm running out of people to call." The frustration was clear in his gravelly tones as Bobby sank back down into his chair and eyed the stack of books he had gathered from his haphazard library that seemed to line every wall, nook and cranny of his house. Over the years, Bobby had gathered a formidable collection of knowledge, but would it be enough? First Dean, now John...everyone was looking to him to find what they needed and the pressure was churning his gut. He kept trying to tell himself that John was just off the radar and holed up somewhere, dealing with his own demons, so to speak. But there was a gnawing feeling deep inside that told him Sam had a good reason to be worried. That something had happened to John and they were running out of time.

Turning her head slightly as she continued to study, Skye could hear the sound of laughter coming from the living room as Connor played with his puppy. A puppy they had yet to name because Skye couldn't bring herself to even let it in that much. As if just ignoring the situation would make it go away before Connor could ever be hurt by the pain of losing something – some_one –_ that he loved. It never worked that way. If it did work that way? Skye would have never let Dean and Sam into their lives at all.

"Bobby? About last night..." The tension Skye had been feeling since last night was crushing her. It was time to clear the air.

"Forget about it."

"I can't just forget about it, Bobby. I upset you." Skye pressed, knowing that she had to tread carefully, even if she refused to back down.

"So what? You wanna hold hands now and talk about it? You want me to take up knitting next?" Bobby drawled, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.

"No, what I'm trying-..."

"I know what you're saying, girl. Let it go. I don't feel like caring and sharing, okay? This ain't The Notebook..." Bobby cut in, before he allowed a small smile to curl up the corner of his mouth.

"So...we're good?" Skye ventured hopefully.

"Yeah, we're good." Bobby assured her before he picked up the phone. "And I just remembered a couple of other favours I can call in...might help us track down where John was last seen." Dialling the number, Bobby glanced up to see Skye smiling as she went back to the book beside her and his smile grew a little more. They didn't need long winded apologies and hand wringing. What had been said had been in anger at the time and now that was behind them.

They had bigger things to worry about now...

**~~Hellbent~~**

_It was a sense of foreboding. A sense that pulled at the gut and whispered of horror just around the corner, that caused Sam to awaken with a jolt. He looked around him, confusion etched into his face as he took in his surroundings. This wasn't his room. He wasn't lying in bed with Elise curled up behind him. Instead he was sprawled in one of the old arm chairs downstairs in Bobby's living room. Books surrounded him on every wall and Sam could smell the familiar musty smell that seemed to hang around all of Bobby's furniture thanks to years of neglect. _

_How the hell had he ended up down here? Sleep walking? _

_A scream cut through the air. A mixture of terror, pain and anguish. Skye's scream. _

_Sam was out of the chair and running for the stairs in a heartbeat, gripping the rail and dragging himself up the stairs in huge lunges, three at a time. Running down the hallway, Sam couldn't help but wonder where Bobby was? Where was Elise? Why had no one come out of their room to see what was wrong? Something about all this was nagging at his gut, like a sense of deja vu that Sam couldn't shake..._

_Another scream rent the air and Sam slid to a halt beside the nursery door, throwing his shoulder against it as he turned the handle and all but fell into the room. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end instantly as Sam found himself confronted by a shadowy figure with yellow eyes standing in the room._

"_You!"_

_Azazel chuckled darkly, his yellow eyes almost glowing in the soft light. "Not me, Sam. Not this time. I'm just along for the ride." He waved a hand in the direction of Ethan's crib. _

_Sam turned, his heart trying to climb up his throat in sheer horror as he saw another figure standing beside the crib. A figure so familiar that Sam was almost afraid to say his name. "Dean?" _

_The smile on Dean's face as he turned to glance over his shoulder at his brother was chilling. A monstrous, twisted version of the grin that Sam had always loved to see on his older brother's face. "Hey, Sammy..." _

_The way Dean's pet name for him dripped from those lips made the skin crawl on Sam's neck almost like it was a form of blasphemy. This wasn't his brother standing there. There was no light in those eyes, no Dean. Just pure malice. It was sickening and heartbreaking all at once. _

"_You're not Dean." Sam growled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Where's Skye, what have you done with her?" A soft sob caught his attention and Sam glanced over to Connor's bed to see the little boy awake and curled up with his back against the wall, watching everything unfold before him with wide, fearful eyes. _

"_Stay there, Connor. You stay right there. It's gonna be okay." Sam called, trying to move to cover the boy, every muscle coiling for a fight as his mind raced to find a way out of this for all of them. Sam wasn't stupid, he knew he couldn't fight Azazel. Not in here. And now there was Dean to contend with as well...or at least, something that looked like his brother. It wasn't Dean. Sam refused to accept that. _

"_What's the matter, Sammy?" Dean reached into the crib and picked up Ethan, his hand rubbing the little boy's back to soothe him as he turned to face Sam, cradling his son against his chest. "You don't look happy to see me? Oh wait...that'd be cause you left me to rot down in the pit, right? Just cut me loose and never gave me another thought." _

"_No!" Sam denied his voice rough with emotion. "I've been trying for months to get you out, Dean! I've been chasing every damn lead I could find!" _

"_Every lead huh? Really? You want me to swallow that bullshit? Come on, Sam. Who are you lying to here? We both know you'd never be strong enough to bust me out the pit. Hell, even Yellow Eyes knows what a weak bastard you are now. Face it, dude...you're not the winning team anymore. There's gonna be a new kid on the block now." Dean smiled at his brother, his eyes sliding oily black before he pressed a soft kiss to the top of Ethan's head. The baby hiccuped for a moment and began to cry before he was soothed once more by his father's hand rubbing his back._

_It was an image that Sam wished he could see without it being tainted by the black stain of the demonic eyes staring back at him as Dean smiled again. "See? I haven't lost my touch huh?"  
_

"_Don't do this, Dean," Sam was pleading now, trying to ignore the knot forming in his gut. The sick feeling that he was missing something here. _

"_Sorry Sammy...it's already a done deal." _

_Something caught Sam's attention out of the corner of his eye and he looked up, his eyes widening in sheer horror at the sight of Skye pinned to the ceiling just as Jess and his mother had once been. There was a deep scarlet stain spreading across her stomach, Skye's eyes pleading with Sam for help as her mouth hung open in a silent scream that quickly became real as flames exploded all around her, engulfing Skye in seconds. _

"_That's our cue, Dean." Azazel disappeared from the room with a grin at Sam and a flashy snap of his fingers as the flames rapidly spread throughout the room. _

_Connor screamed from where he was huddled on his bed as the flames came closer and closer, licking at the base of the bed and igniting the covers where they touched the floor, crawling towards the little boy with each passing second. _

_Sam hesitated for barely a heartbeat, knowing that Dean was about to take Ethan, before he made his choice and leapt through the growing wall of flame to grab Connor. Scooping the little boy up in his arms, he tried to turn him away from the flames, feeling them already licking at his back. The room was well ablaze, with Skye's body lost to it's own funeral pyre on the ceiling as Sam desperately tried to find a way through the flames. He was pushed back at every turn as Connor screamed in terror for Skye and begged Sam to save him. _

"_Dean! DEAN, help us! Don't do this! Save Connor, PLEASE!" Sam yelled through the flames, knowing that he was pleading on deaf ears. But surely there was some glimmer of his brother in there still. Some small part that would never allow harm to Connor.  
_

"_Collateral damage, Sam. The old Dean might have given a damn...but he's long gone." Dean shrugged his shoulders then and vanished with Ethan just as the flames exploded around the crib where he had been standing. _

_Sam looked around the room, trying to back away as far from the flames as he could. There was nowhere to go any more. The flames were too high, too angry, consuming everything around them. Furniture was alight, the paint on the walls blistering and peeling in the intense heat. _

_Sam drew Connor in tight against him and huddled up into a ball against the wall as much as he could, using his huge frame to try and shield Connor for as long as he could. His lungs were already burning with smoke, his voice choked and raspy as he said, "Shhhh, it's okay. I'm right here. Just close your eyes, little dude. Close your eyes and think of your Mom..." _

_Sam could feel the flames licking at his back, the skin beginning to blister, his shirt smoking and burning as he fought the urge to scream right up until the moment that his hair ignited. _

_And then Sam screamed as he lit up like a Roman candle..._

Sam's eyes snapped open, searching the room around him, a scream locking up in his throat as he fought to swallow it back down in the first few moments of waking. Elise was still sleeping soundly beside him, oblivious to the fear coursing through Sam in that moment, his chest heaving, his body bathed in cold sweat. Pushing himself upright, he swung his feet off the bed and sat up, running a hand through his sweat damp hair as he regained some composure finally.

Barely a heartbeat passed before he snatched his jeans from the floor and pulled them on, snagging his shirt from the floor and dragging it over his head as he stepped out of the bedroom and all but jogged down to Ethan and Connor's room. The door flew open as Sam burst in, startling Ethan awake and filling the room with his throaty cry a moment later.

Connor stirred in his bed as the puppy at his feet barked in response to all the sudden commotion. He sat up slowly, rubbing at his eyes sleepily until he was suddenly enveloped in a hug from Sam. "Uncle Sammy 'kay?"

"I'm fine, buddy. Just fine. Just a bad dream." Sam assured Connor, his eyes squeezed shut against the horrible echoes of the dream still drifting through his mind. The stench of burnt flesh was fading now, replaced with the soft smell of the fabric softener Skye used on Connor's pyjamas. "You go back to sleep, okay? Everything's okay."

Connor shook his head and scowled sleepily. "E'fan's too noisy."

"Sam? What's wrong? Are the boys okay?" Skye skidded to a halt in the doorway, flushed from her run up the stairs. It had only been a couple of hours since she had been able to put Ethan to bed and head back down to the den to continue helping Bobby with the researching.

"No, no, they're fine." Sam tried to assure Skye as he watched her pick Ethan up and rock the baby gently to settle him again. He wanted to tell her about the dream, but how could he explain to her exactly what he had seen? Dean as a demon? Burning her and Connor alive? No, there was no way Sam could tell Skye anything about that at all. There was no need to. Sam wasn't going to let anything like that happen.

"Okay...so you want to explain why you're in here looking like you've seen a ghost?" Skye demanded, her hand rhythmically patting Ethan's back as he was rocked slowly. It was second nature to her, an action she wasn't even really aware of while she waited for Sam to answer her.

"It's nothing. Just a stupid dream."

"There's no such thing in this family, Sam. What did you see?" Skye's tone was sharper now, her eyes narrowing as a chill ran down her back. She was all too aware of Sam's dream connections with Dean, of her own nightmares that had led her to Dean's body, what now felt like a lifetime ago in some barn in the middle of nowhere. It was impossible to dismiss anything now as just a stupid dream.

"Sam? Everything okay in here?" Elise was in the doorway to the nursery, hair dishevelled, still waking up as she yawned and stretched.

Sam looked at Elise and then back at Skye, still waiting for his answer, before he shook his head and headed for the door. "It doesn't matter. I'm not letting it happen." He slipped past Elise and disappeared back into his own room a moment later.

"Okay, what am I missing here?" Elise asked Skye, clearly lost.

"Don't look at me...he's your fiancé." Skye shrugged. She placed a now sleeping Ethan back in his crib and then made sure Connor was tucked in tight before she flicked off the light again and ushered Elise out of the room. As the door closed, the girls were greeted by the sight of Sam emerging from his room, pulling his jacket on and carrying a small duffel bag with him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa...where the hell are you going?" Elise blocked Sam's path, planting a hand in his chest.

"Elise, don't. I have do to this."

"Do what? I'm not a bloody mushroom, Sam. I'm sick of the bullshit you've been feeding me. Just give me a straight answer for god's sake."

"I'm going to get Dean back." Sam told her as he stepped around Elise and pushed past Skye, heading down the stairs like a man on a mission. There was no way he would be able to explain the urgency now burning in his gut. The feeling that every ticking minute meant he was a step closer to failing Dean and losing him forever. The dead, black eyes mocking him from his brother's face were an image that Sam couldn't shake...and that was a good thing. It was what Sam needed to push him now.

"Sam!" Skye shared a look with Sam before they both raced down the stairs after him. By the time they had reached the bottom, Sam was already out the door and in the Chevelle.

Elise caught a glimpse of Sam looking at her and mouthing the words _I'm sorry _before the Chevelle took off with a roar from the engine and a spray of gravel.

"What the hell does that idjit think he's doing with my car?" Bobby's voice growled from behind the girls.

Skye and Elise turned and saw the older hunter standing near the base of the stairs, looking every bit like someone who had just been disturbed from a rough night's sleep. It was barely four am by Bobby's watch and his mood was already soured before he had even opened his eyes. His demeanour softened somewhat, however, as he saw the emotions swimming in the eyes of both women before him. "Aw hell..."

**~~Hellbent~~**

The Chevelle ate up mile after mile without protest, but Sam couldn't help but wish it was the Impala beneath his hands right now. He made a silent promise to Dean that he would fix the car after tonight. That he would fix them both, car and owner...because Dean was coming home.

Sam knew where he would find his answers and he wasn't stopping until he had them. He owed Dean that much.


End file.
